Skydiving for Cripples
by 1985laurie
Summary: Ch24 up now! Its almost all over... No slash...but strong HouseWilson friendship in there as usual. Plus, some Huddy action too...yep, you heard me! R&R! House!hurt...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I fancy writing something with a little romance in it…but since it'd probably suck more than my usual fics – I'll write this instead…I haven't decided where it's going or who I want to pair but I'm always up for suggestions (as my regular reviewers know) It could be long considering how much I've written for the first chapter – and it may take a while to update 'cos I'm still writing Voodoo Child. House!hurt as per usual (I'm a one trick pony…) Enjoy…**

Pain woke him hours before his alarm ever could; which was pretty unsurprising. The location of the pain however, now that was different; it was a sharp, stabbing pain in his rib cage and a pounding headache. House groaned as he cracked an eye open to survey the damage; he was relieved to find himself in his bed, albeit in a peculiar position. He winced as he twisted on the bed to reach his vicodin; 'what the hell happened last night?' he thought as he dry swallowed a couple of pills with difficulty.

'Jesus', he remembered getting up to pee for about the fifth time at 3am and, in a drunken stumble, being harshly assaulted by his coffee table. Thus causing him to land half on the table and half on the floor; obviously the right hand side of his body wasn't too happy about falling behind the left and wasn't shy about letting him know now, 'ouch'.

He made a mental note not to drink then fall asleep on the couch; although the note would almost certainly be scrapped when the next weekend came by. He waited a couple of minutes for the vicodin to dull the pain before he gingerly turned over to a more bearable sleeping position…

House managed to gain another 30 minutes of snoozing before he was rudely awoken by his cell; he let it go for a few more ring cycles. 'Must be life threatening…' he thought lazily as he ignored it for a few more rings; the cell refused to be ignored and whoever was calling was more persistent than House thought possible. He groaned and reached over, accidentally knocking the offending phone onto the floor; cursing as he let his arm drop over the edge of the bed to fetch the offending item he pressed the first button he came to and pressed the cell as close to his ear as he dared with a splitting headache.

"What?" He mumbled, the word almost becoming lost in the pillow as he stayed in his face down position.

"Good morning to you too" came the innocent tones of Cuddy, "get up, get dressed and get in here - now!" House groaned but didn't have time to argue before she continued, "it's not a request House; it's an order."

"I love it when you're domineering…" House mumbled into the pillow again.

"Foreman's taken a sick day, Chase and Cameron are in – I know it's your day off…but we need you here, on time, today."

House waited a while before replying, he thought about drifting back off to sleep; it was his weekend off, he was hung-over and didn't really want to leave his warm haven.

"House?" Cuddy said, she was beginning to think that she could hear him snoring on the other end of the line.

"Pick me up in ten." He growled softly.

"You have a bike, use it – and don't be late" -dial tone. Cuddy didn't leave much room for discussion or arguments – smart woman.

"Not even a 'drive safe' or 'thank you'" he grumbled to himself as he slid out of bed; he did need to stay in Cuddy good books, especially since he needed two weeks off soon, 'maybe I can get away with a nap in my office' he thought as he yawned deeply.

He limped to the bathroom, grabbing the sink as another jolt of pain went through his ribs; maybe being at the hospital would work to his advantage, he could get Wilson to sneak him in for an x ray…Of course he'd have to make up some elaborate story about how his sadistic hooker beat him up; how could he resist the opportunity to get his friend to roll his eyes and sigh in exasperation – the joys of his screwed up friendship.

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'Oh God, this is gonna hurt like hell' he thought as he stood over his bike. It was hard enough getting dressed without too much upper body movement; he was up to his limit on vicodin and it wasn't even 9am yet! He could hear his pager calling to him from his bag, he dragged it out and scowled at it; 'You'd better be on your way right now' and it didn't even say 'love Cuddy' – what a disappointment.

He eventually pulled into the parking garage at PPTH, thankful that it seemed fairly empty; the last thing he needed right now was for someone to watch him pathetically attempting to dismount his bike – on three…one, two…three!

He swore angrily as he dropped his cane, and cursed even louder as he bent down to retrieve it. As he straightened back up, Wilson was standing over him looking shocked, and at the same time, bemused; "You're early…and here on your day off…and you look awful."

"Can't you just say hello like everybody else?" House asked, attempting to glare but failing miserably when his leg got tired of holding him up in the cold for too long; it forced him to shift his weight, squeezing his eyes shut when his ribs joined in the mini protest.

Wilson watched the development with a little more concern, clearing his throat but still managing to sound worried; "Err, you okay?"

"Yes…no – I don't know…just hung-over" House mumbled, clearly uncomfortable with the pity that Wilson was doing a poor job of concealing. He about faced and limped agonisingly slowly towards the building; Wilson took this as his cue to follow and to ask more specific questions.

"Does your leg hurt?"

"No, it miraculously healed overnight; I've just popped in to return my cane and vicodin" House scowled as they reached the elevator. He looked to Wilson who stood, arms crossed, waiting for House to get to the real reason as to why he was hunched over his cane looking like an old aged pensioner in gale force winds.

House sighed in mock defeat as they entered the empty elevator; "I decided to try a late night sky diving session last night – but forgot to open my chute…I'm suing Jack Daniels"

Wilson smirked, "What injuries are you claiming compensation for Dr House? Let me remind you that you are under oath" he drawled in his best southern lawyer accent. If talking in code was the only way to get the truth, then that's what had to be done.

"Bruised ribs" House said quietly, refusing to make eye contact with Wilson and pretending to be engrossed in the elevator control panel instead. Wilson refused to let up with his stare, forcing House to continue…"Okay…severely bruised ribs…maybe fractured a couple?" beat "three broken."

Wilson stared in disbelief, "and you're just walking around like that?"

"Patient is on a high dose of painkillers Dr Wilson." House stated as he escaped from the elevator, not even waiting for the doors to fully open.

He limped into the conference room, silently praying that Cameron had made some fresh coffee; she had, and both she and Chase were nowhere to be seen – even better. Cuddy must have warned them that he was coming in; 'Good old Cuddy' he thought as he struggled over to his office, coffee in hand. He managed to make it to his desk without spilling too much of the boiling liquid, this earned his mug a small triumphant smile as he set it down in front of him.

"Wilson, if you're gonna stand in the doorway and stare at me all day then at least talk to me – you're not on safari."

Wilson entered and sat himself opposite House; he was bursting to say something and it was already annoying the hell out of his friend who leaned back in his chair carefully and braced himself... "You're either here because you're not too worried about whether your ribs are broken…" Wilson cocked his head as he observed House pretending to look busy by looking intently at an old man's hip x ray. "Or, you're in more pain than you're letting on and you figure that being in a hospital is the best place for you." He saw House flinch slightly at his second theory; Wilson leaned back in his chair, a smug look crossing his features, knowing that he had House figured.

"Your theory has a flaw…" House wiped the smug look off of Wilson's face, "If I _was_ ill, this is the last place I'd come to – I wouldn't trust the doctor's here with a packet of band aids...maybe I came in because Cuddy asked me to" he stage whispered the last part, as if he was afraid she'd find out that he had actually obeyed an order.

Wilson smiled knowingly, which annoyed House no end, and stood up to leave. "I'll schedule you for an x ray at lunch" he stated as he reached the door, not bothering to wait for a reply before he left.

House sighed, grimacing slightly as he pulled his jacket off and threw it down beside him; he didn't fancy an unnecessary trip to the coat stand right now, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his vicodin, just double checking that there were enough of the white pills to last him the day.

He was still examining them when his ears pricked up to the sound of Cuddy's heels in the corridor; he downed his coffee and painfully reached around to grab a shirt from the back of his chair as Cuddy entered, smiling warmly.

"Thanks for coming in on such short notice…what?" Cuddy paused, taking in the look of horror on House's face.

"Well…you're smiling…and you just said thanks – all in the space of 10 seconds. It's a lot to take in."

"Shut up." She said as she slapped him on the shoulder with the file she had been carrying; she arched one eyebrow when he flinched and hissed at the action. "What's wrong now?"

"I'm a sensitive soul and you're just so rough with me" he whined pitifully, "sometimes it's nice I'll admit-"

"Whatever – just get down to the clinic and cover a few hours…whatever you do today, you can book double for it, okay?" Cuddy ignored the open mouthed stare that House was currently sporting, "C'mon – some time today would be nice…" she added as she watched House gingerly pulling his shirt on. "Okay…now I know why you're always late for work." She muttered, noting how slowly House was getting fully dressed; she put it down to the fact that he didn't have to be here and because he'd do anything to try to annoy her.

"Don't you have other people to be sexually harassing right now?" he asked, conscious of the fact that she seemed to be watching his every move.

"Not today, why'd you think I asked you to come in" Cuddy said, smiling as she ushered him out of the office; she couldn't believe how easy it had been to get House to work on a Saturday; she even took no notice of the fact that he looked hung-over, just putting it down to the fact that he usually spent his Friday nights out on the town.

She ignored his pained gait and didn't question his apparent stalling for time by walking at a snails pace down to the clinic; she walked him right up to the doors of the clinic and practically skipped off to her office. He could see that she was on cloud nine today; he was here, in the clinic, on his day off – even though he looked and felt like he could collapse at any moment…

He informed the nurses that he would be in exam room 1, he would send the patients out with their own damn files and he wanted at least a ten minute gap before the next patient was sent in. The nurses rolled their eyes and grumbled quietly; he didn't care, he just wanted to get in the room and take the weight off of his leg which definitely didn't appreciate being ignored today.

He lowered himself onto the stool in the sanctuary of the exam room and let out a shaky sigh whilst trying to get comfortable. He hoped that he'd be able to fly through the first two hours without physically examining anyone; he even considered just making up illnesses for each patient as they walked in and maybe he'd get lucky and diagnose them within seconds.

Normally that would be completely feasible, but today he was distracted by the grating feeling in his ribs when he took a breath – 'damn, they're broken for sure.' He thought as he waited in between patients. After the eighth patient he felt absolutely homicidal, the next patient was gonna get some serious, incurable ailment…

There was a sharp knock at the door before Cameron poked her head inside; "House – need you to look at some test results."

"Hmmph." Was the only reply she got as he held his hand out for the results.

"Are you okay?" Cameron asked as she watched House shakily hold the results out to read them clearly. "You look sick."

"Good job I'm in a hospital then isn't it? Lots of doctors standing around doing nothing." He looked pointedly at Cameron as if he'd just had a brainwave. "Close the door, I need an examination-"

"House I don't have time to play games-" Cameron said as she backed towards the door; the fact that he smelt faintly of whiskey was concerning enough.

"Sure you do, I need your help…please." 'Good - that shut her up but it does kinda make me sound desperate and begging' he thought as he watched her expression go from one of horror to curiosity. She took her hand off the doorknob as he gingerly stripped.

"Whoa! What are you doing?" Cameron yelped as she averted her eyes away from her stripping boss – 'he's finally lost it…oh my God, oh my God!' she thought as she quickly turned to face the door.

"Err, unless you can tell me which one's are broken from there, I suggest you get over here and start acting like a doctor, not a 12 year old girl." House said, amused at how embarrassed she was right now.

She sighed angrily, turning slowly with a scowl on her face until she saw the colourful bruising he was sporting on his torso. "Jesus House, what happened?" She moved over to where he was still sat on the small stool and hesitated before him. "This is going to hurt – are you sure you want me to do it?"

"Relax, I'm not gonna bite…I'd rather you did this than Wilson, he's about as gentle as…I can't think of a non sexual simile right now" he stated as he closed his eyes, trying not to focus on the fact that Cameron looked like she was about to jump him.

He flinched involuntarily as she started clinically pressing his ribs, looking for a break; he was alarmed to find that, even through the pain, he was almost enjoying this gentle contact. 'No way, not happening…Think cold showers, STD's, Foreman in Cuddy's tennis outfit – anything!' his mind raced.

He cracked an eye open when he felt her pull away to reach for her stethoscope; she warmed it between her hands before pressing it gently over his chest. 'Wonder if all her patients get this special treatment?' he asked himself silently as he watched her intently.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door which made them both jump; House hissed as the action took its toll on his battered body. "With a patient." He said loudly, but in a slightly strained tone of voice.

"House, if you actually think you can fool me with that excuse, again-" Cuddy was cut off as she walked in to see House facing away from her, shirtless and hunched over on his stool with Cameron opposite him, stethoscope in her ears, looking very much the deer caught in the headlights of an approaching juggernaught.

"He has 3 breaks, possible internal bleeding – he needs an x ray to be sure." Cameron rallied off in a petrified, yet professional manner.

"So much for doctor, patient confidentiality" House muttered whilst looking accusingly at Cameron, who was planning her escape. "Dr Cuddy, I don't believe I asked for a second opinion – so please leave." He didn't turn around but he heard the sound of the door clicking closed and was aware that Cuddy and her clickity high heels were still in the room. 'Oh great'

"Thank you Dr Cameron, you can go." Cuddy said as she walked over to see House for herself; she had her whole lecture on office politics planned out, now with an extra paragraph added for taking advantage of fellows in clinic exam rooms.

Cameron leapt up and bee-lined it towards the door before sheepishly returning to get her test results; after she had scurried out for the second time, Cuddy turned her attention back to House.

He was busy watching his young employee leave; 'she must have been enjoying it too; all that sexual tension – her head might have exploded or something!' he thought, grinning to himself. He chuckled as he imagined what Cameron was going to say to other's if they ever found out; chuckling, however, was more painful than it was worth and so he groaned, forgetting about Cuddy who was glaring at him expectantly.

"What happened? Did you get into a fight?" She asked in a tone of voice that seriously grated on his headache, causing him to groan again. "When did this happen?" she continued, pointing to his magnificent bruises.

"Last night…or possibly this morning – I forget." He said, feigning innocence as he leant over to grab his t shirt – it wasn't exactly the warmest exam room in the hospital and having his boss checking him out as his nipples stood to attention was hardly doing it for him.

The problem now was that he was hunched over and he wasn't looking forward to trying to sit up straight; he could feel something tugging on his ribs, 'maybe the flirting with Cameron idea had been a bad one…'

"You could have told me – I'm not that much of an ogre that I'd make you work clinic with broken ribs!" she said dramatically as she observed him hunched over, breathing shallow and rapid; unable to even put his t shirt on.

"Didn't know anything was broken, it was masked by the vicodin – didn't start hurting 'till now…" House said forcibly smirking as Cuddy frowned at him, "don't worry – I'm sure I'll live."

Cuddy kneeled beside him, putting an arm up to stop him from trying to put the t shirt on; it was too painful to even watch. She leant past him to grab a BP cuff and monitor from the corner of the room; he seemed to be slightly stunned when she invaded his personal space so freely.

"I take it Cameron didn't get this far into her examination?" Cuddy asked as she strapped the cuff around his upper arm. She looked up at him, expecting some smart ass quip…nothing, just a minute shake of the head; he looked pale and clammy – but his breathing seemed to have even out a little.

House was desperately trying to keep his breathing in order; his lungs were screaming at him for more air but he couldn't comply without panting – he wouldn't want Cuddy to think that he was getting excited because she was touching him, that would just be weird…wouldn't it?

"House?" Cuddy said for the third time; House seemed to be stuck in a world of his own and was either ignoring her, or something was up. "House!" His vacant stare turned into confusion as he snapped out of the trance, almost toppling off of the stool. He was saved by Cuddy's lightening reactions as she stuck her hands on his shoulder's and pushed him back; unfortunately, a nurse decided to walk in at that moment and witness what she assumed was a 'private moment' between the most gossiped about couple in the hospital. She squealed a short "Sorry!" before turning on her heel and slamming the door behind her; off to spread the word about what she'd just stumbled into…


	2. Chapter 2

"You okay – or are you gonna topple over again?" Cuddy asked as she pushed House back into a semi-hunched position. He grunted in response and met Cuddy's eye as she worriedly took his BP "It's a little low…nothing too serious" she stood up and briefly looked through the blinds, catching the nurses pointing and giggling with each other. 'Oh great…' she thought, 'there goes what was left of my credibility.' Turning back to her patient she folded her arms in an exasperated manner; "You waiting for me to check anything else?"

"Don't recall even asking you to check my blood pressure – figured I'd humour you…but next time you want to get me naked-" he smirked as she threw her hands up in defeat; truth be told he was actually getting a little self-conscious sitting like a lemon with his top off.

"Are you drunk?" Cuddy asked, smelling the faint smell of malt whiskey; he was certainly hung over.

"I can honestly say…I don't know" House said truthfully, "it is supposed to be my day off and by my estimate I've had…about 4 hours sleep and half of those were due to the fact that I was pretty much paralytic and passed out on my couch" he smirked as Cuddy cringed.

"Go to lunch, eat something; make sure you get an x ray…" Cuddy paused, House waited for 'the big one'…"if your ribs _are_ broken; you get to have a week off work to recover" she sighed, as if it were the biggest sacrifice she'd ever made, when she saw the hint of a smile on House's face. "But I want proof…besides, it wouldn't look good for the hospital if you passed out on a patient" he stopped grinning at this.

"You had to ruin it didn't you? There I was thinking that you cared about me…" he pouted mockingly, watching Cuddy's stance change from aggressive to contrite. 'Ooh, I obviously hit a nerve…' he thought as he watched her keep busy by tidying the BP equipment away. She made her way over to the door, bracing herself for the onslaught of hushed whispers and stifled giggles, turning to face him one last time.

He gingerly began lifting his t shirt over his head, wincing as the action annoyed his upper body; Cuddy rolled her eyes, hand still resting on the doorknob – he was fully aware that she was watching so he played it for all it was worth, even throwing in a couple of curses for good measure.

"Oh just take the damn week off" she sighed, putting her hand up to stop him interrupting, "No arguments!"

"Who said I was gonna argue? I just wanted to know if I could get a lift home" he said cheekily, raising an eyebrow at her apparent loss of familiarity with him; why would he possibly argue about being sent home? He pulled his t shirt over his head with apparent ease, causing Cuddy to mentally question how much pain he was really in; mental note to self 'remember who you're talking to.'

"How did you get here?"

"I rode my bike…a little irresponsible to send me home on that death trap, especially since you know I'm drugged up to my eyeballs on vicodin…" he feigned looking stoned, which wasn't too hard considering how light headed he still felt. As if to reinforce his point he picked his tub of pills out of his pocket and dry swallowed a couple; 'get a refill before you leave' he noted as he counted the number left in the tub.

"and that's new because…?"

"I hope you're not insinuating that I always ride under the influence-"

"House, you're not getting a ride from me, so quit trying. Ask Wilson or one of your people."

"They're called Doctors, Cuddy. Doc-tor-s."

Cuddy sighed, opening the door and signalling her retreat from the conversation; she hoped she could make it to her office and manage to ignore the stares that were being directed her way. 'Damn House and his stupid games.'

House also sighed as he twisted on the stool to get his cane; 'time to find Wilson' he thought as he gingerly limped out of the exam room, being sure to plant a goofy grin on his face before winking wickedly at the nurses. 'Sorry Cuddy, but you asked for it.'

He spotted Wilson deeply enthralled in the paperwork being passed to him from a young nurse; or was he deeply enthralled in the nurse passing him the paperwork…'same difference' House thought, shaking his head slightly.

"Hey Wilson, need an x ray – Cuddy thinks I'm dieing!" yep, that got his full attention.

"Seriously?" Wilson asked, tearing his eyes away from the pretty nurse to look House up and down; he certainly didn't look like he was dieing, a little pale perhaps and he definitely looked like he could use a few days sleep.

"Nope, but she's giving me a week off – cool huh?" House said triumphantly. Wilson rolled his eyes and made to walk off, leaving House open mouthed – "whoa, where are you going?"

"Some of us have work to do – I don't know if I told you this, but I'm _actually_ a doctor." It was the reply that House did not want to hear; he was relying on Wilson to be all concerned and look out for him like he had been earlier.

"Right, I'm a patient – you're a doctor; together we're a match made in heaven!" roughly translated as 'I can't believe you'd leave your bestest buddy like this!'

"Why don't you ask Cameron, she's worried about you; I would say ask Cuddy, but from what I've been hearing about you two…" Wilson shook his head puzzled as they both strode to the main reception, "were you really naked in there?"

"You already know my stance on kiss and tell." House said solemnly as he entered the elevator, the doors closing before Wilson could verbalize the look of confusion that had taken over his features.

'Wilson's a lost cause; maybe Chase can give me a ride…'

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House stumbled into the conference room, putting on his most impressive 'pained' face; unfortunately Cameron was there to witness it, not Chase – 'Oh brother, let caring overload commence.'

"Are you okay – what did Cuddy say?" she asked, worry dripping from every word; House wondered if the concern was for him or for the fact that Cuddy had walked in on them in a compromising situation. There was nothing for it, he'd have to ask her for a lift and punish Chase for not being here for him later.

'This is gonna be _way_ too easy' House thought smugly as he dropped into a chair at the table with a loud "Oomph!" briefly forgetting that he really had hurt himself and that sudden movement meant that he couldn't breathe. 'Oops' "I need an x ray-" he gasped; only half acting now.

"I booked you in right after I left the clinic" the ever reliably compassionate Cameron said.

"I also need to ask you for a favour…" he purposefully hesitated at that point, making himself look pathetic by holding his side tenderly and avoiding eye contact. Cameron nodded, eventually asking "what?" when he didn't continue; House had to fight hard to keep the smile off of his face as he pretended to sigh 'you're such a good actor.'

"I need someone…to give me a lift back to my apartment…Wilson's busy and-"

"I'll take you home as soon as you've had your x ray" Cameron almost tripped over the words as they flew out of her mouth. House struggled making a smirk turn into a grateful look; she didn't seem to notice the difference, so he must have gotten away with it. Too easy.

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He managed to speed through the x ray process without anyone bothering him; although there were plenty of hushed conversations when he approached the nurse's station to collect the films. Apparently his little stunt that morning with Cuddy had earned him the highly commended position of being top of the gossip list; knowing Cuddy she was probably holed up in her office, too embarrassed to come out, thinking about how she could repay the favour.

"Put them on her desk" he ordered to Cameron who had been following his at a distance, trying to hear what everyone was saying behind House's back, she hadn't heard the rumours yet - luckily for House.

"Don't you want to see them?" she asked, holding out the envelope.

"Would I have asked you to put them on her desk if I did? Give me your car keys."

Cameron frowned as she handed over the keys; the nice, vulnerable House from earlier seemed to have disappeared and had once again been replaced with regular, grouchy House. She stalked off and he negotiated the walk through to the parking lot to find her car, though not before refilling his vicodin script.

As he stumbled across the lot he figured out that Cameron had 'accidentally' forgotten to mention where she'd parked which meant that he was forced to wander around aimlessly for a few minutes searching for it until she returned; not something his ribs or leg would thank him for in a hurry.

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They arrived at his apartment after an awkward car journey where House insisted on letting Cameron know that her driving 'sucks worse than Wilson's' before being snapped at because 'I'm only driving slowly so you don't hurt your damn ribs'. He sheepishly thanked her for the lift, painfully pulled himself out of the car and ambled up to his door.

Much to his amusement, she followed him and even insisted on opening the front door for him; "okay, you can go now…" he said, extending his arm out by way of indication, as if she'd forgotten where the door was.

"Don't you need anything; food, what about-"

"I'm fine – get back to work; I've got some serious lounging around I need to be getting on with" he pushed her by the elbow back out of the door and into the hallway. 'Take a hint…' he thought as he popped open his vicodin and swallowed one.

"But Cuddy asked me to make sure you were alright."

"Cuddy's got her own webcam set up in my shower; that's where I'll be for the next hour" he said reassuringly, "if she wants me, she knows what channel I'm on" he grinned, slamming the door in her face and locking it.

"Thank God for that" he muttered as he watched her car disappear down the street; she'd spent ten minutes just sitting in it, 'probably reporting back to the boss' he thought as he limped his way down the hall to the bathroom, praying to his higher power that the boiler would kick in and give him at least a half hour's worth of hot water.

As he attempted to relax under the warm spray of the shower he briefly caught a reflection of himself in the mirror opposite; "Jesus, no wonder they both freaked out" he noted as he became mesmerised by the cool blue and purple shading he was sporting on his right side.

As he hop-stepped out of the shower to grab a towel, he wiped a hand over the condensation on the mirror to get a closer look at his swollen side; he couldn't help just staring, counting the ribs affected and trying to guess which one's were in fact broken. Funny how the pain seemed to be foggy and dull, he was pretty sure he should be in agony right now. He stretched slightly and winced as he felt tugging and grating…not a nice combination at all.

'Maybe you did take a _little_ too much vicodin earlier' he thought, biting his lip as he recalled his impulsive behaviour in the clinic, stripping off in front of Cameron and nearly falling on top of Cuddy. It didn't help that he'd been still suffering from the effects of alcohol too; the haze had been wiped from his head now though, the shower had made sure of that.

He cocked his head as he heard an impatient banging on his front door; he grabbed his cane and slowly made his way down the hall, clad only in a towel, to answer the door. He looked through the peephole to find Cuddy standing the other side, talking into her cell phone and looking frantic. 'Oh great…do I let her in or not?' he thought, his hand reaching for the lock…

**Author's Note: Yeah, I know, not a lot happened in this chapter…what can I say – I don't like to rush things! Just be glad I updated…having a hectic time at work; roads don't just design themselves you know! Thanks for the nice feedback for the last chapter; it was nice to hear from some new people (as well as the people who have been sticking with me so far on my other fics – thanks) x**


	3. Chapter 3

He waited, silently, with his hand on the doorknob; he didn't have the energy to deal with Cuddy right now, especially if she's stressed. Eventually she got tired of banging on the door and left; House sighed as he watched her car speed away.

It took him ten minutes to agonisingly limp his way to the couch , sit down and find a suitable T.V programme to watch; no sooner had he found a show to take away his body worries, he was distracted by more knocking at his door.

House chose to ignore it for as long as possible; he wasn't ready to get up for anyone – for at least a week. He didn't have to wait long before Wilson let himself in; of course, House wasn't about to let him know that he was grateful for not having to leave his position on the couch.

"Why bother knocking when you have a key?"

"Err, you could have been naked or anything…" Wilson said, pausing as he took in the harsh reality that House actually _did _seem to be naked from where he was standing by the door.

"So you gave me all of what…10 seconds, to get dressed." House said, still facing the television; twisting to look at Wilson wasn't on his list of 'things that are possible with broken ribs'.

"Which obviously wasn't long enough...?" Wilson noted, daring to walk around the couch; much to his relief, House still had the towel wrapped around his waist.

House looked up at him, obviously remembering that he was semi naked and feeling a little self conscious, luckily he was saved by the phone ringing. When neither he nor Wilson made an attempt to answer he had to speak up; "Are you gonna get me the phone; prove that you didn't just come round hoping I was naked?" his friend scowled and stalked off to get the phone.

"It's Cuddy" he said, checking the caller i.d.

"Ugh, I'm not here" House whined, turning the volume on the television up as if it would make Cuddy stop ringing.

"Then why am I even here?" Wilson sighed, resigning himself to answer, "Hello"

"Wilson? Where's House?" Cuddy asked immediately.

"Well he's currently sprawled out on the couch watching…err, you'd rather not know what he's watching actually…" Wilson chuckled as he took the phone into the kitchen, away from the moaning and groaning coming from the t.v set; House had managed to find the only erotic channel that showed 24hour porno.

House grinned to himself as he watched Wilson leave the room looking embarrassed, he then muted the volume and eavesdropped on the conversation; his curiosity telling him that Cuddy would only ring if it was important – something must be up.

"I need him to come in for another x ray." Cuddy stated sounding deadly serious.

"He had one earlier didn't he?" Wilson asked, catching House staring at him from the couch before turning and pretending to be engrossed in the programme once more.

"There was a lot of swelling before; we just need to get a clearer image."

"Okay" he replied uneasily, "He looks fine now - why are you worrying so much?"

"Wilson, have you seen it?" Cuddy hissed down the line, "I've been trying to contact the both of you all afternoon – doesn't anyone answer their phone any more?"

"The x ray wait 'til morning cant it? It's just swelling, which isn't exactly uncommon with breaks."

"Yeah…" Cuddy didn't sound very convincing, "just keep an eye on him okay? Take a look at the ribs – see if the swelling's gone down; let me know when it does..."

"I can't just baby-sit him all night" Wilson laughed, "Regardless of what House tells you, I actually _do_ have a life!" he looked round to catch House regarding him with a look of annoyance on his face. 'Busted'

He quickly said his goodbyes to Cuddy before returning to the dragon's den; House had turned some medical type programme on and was busy diagnosing each patient under his breath; he looked pissed.

"Cuddy wants me to check out your war wounds" Wilson stated nonchalantly; House shrugged in response and waved a hand over his torso, apparently motioning where he should look; although it wasn't hard to miss the gigantic area of bruising from where he was standing.

"She seems to think I know a lot about broken bones…must have been the doctor's coat that confused her" Wilson joked but got no response from the older man, 'yep, he heard you and now he's sulking.'

House braced himself on the couch for the procedurally poking and prodding; 'damn doctors, always wanting to stick their fingers in the painful area to see where it hurts – as if it isn't clearly marked out in a nice shade of blue for them to see already!'

He hissed as Wilson caught a particularly tender spot; "you're enjoying this immensely aren't you?" he gasped in agony.

"Me? No, as if I'd enjoy seeing my best friend in pain" Wilson chuckled, backing off to give House room to catch his breath back; "How are you feeling?"

"I'm just peachy now that you've indulged your sadistic nature by poking my broken ribs"

"You haven't asked what Cuddy wanted…"

"I kinda assumed it was rib related; unless she called to find out what I'm wearing?" House straightened up as best he could and grabbed a cushion to hug against his sore mid section.

"I'll get you some clothes…then I'd better be off-"

"Hot date?" House asked innocently, knowing full well that Wilson was taking out the cute nurse tonight for their first proper 'date' together; he received a scowl and a t shirt thrown at his head in reply; he'd been annoying the hell out of Wilson all day about his new, extremely young romantic interest, this was his payback. "You'd better hurry or you'll never make your reservation; Pizza Hut are strict on waiting times..." he smirked annoyingly.

"I don't know why Cuddy seems to think I actually _enjoy_ your company and would be willing to stick around while you recover from injuries that were completely brought on by yourself..." Wilson shot back, vexed.

"If _you_ hadn't left so early I would never have fallen asleep on the couch in the first place-"

"Sorry, I forgot this was all my fault!" Wilson exclaimed defensively as he gave up on the argument and left, making sure to subtly slam the door behind him on his way out.

"You don't have to be so melodramatic" House yelled to the closed door, not sure if he'd been heard or not by his annoyed friend.

He'd been feeling very left out lately, so naturally he'd let Wilson know; now, they seemed to be spending less time together and what time they did have with each other, they fought like a couple of adolescent school children. Jealousy was a strange emotion...

The most recent bout of yelling seemed to have been 'a bad idea' House thought as he began to feel a little light headed; he shifted uncomfortably, groaning as he found out that propping himself against the arm of the couch would be the only way he could lay without his ribs arguing with him too.

He dozed, grumpily as he watched a repeat of some cop drama he couldn't remember the name of; he barely heard his phone ringing in the kitchen as he drifted off in a deep sleep, unaware of the true extent of damage the broken ribs had actually caused...

**Author's Note: Sorry it's only a short chapter...just lay back and enjoy the slow burn (makes a change from my other fics!) I may update tomorrow...then again, it's my birthday, so who knows!**


	4. Chapter 4

House flinched as he felt a hand firmly grasp his shoulder; "Who let you in?" he sleepily mumbled to the angry figure hovering over him; he leant over to grab his bottle of vicodin from the coffee table, swallowing two hungrily.

"I let myself in – I rang your phone, I left messages, I rang your cell, I rang Wilson's cell, I knocked on your door, I let myself in when I received no indication what so ever that you were still on this planet!" Cuddy ranted furiously, "your door was unlocked – I took it as an open invitation to come in."

"What's got your thongs in a twist?" House blurted out before he could stop himself, 'oops – here we go; she's only worried about you, you idiot…'

"House, for I knew, you could have been…where's Wilson?" Cuddy looked around for the oncologist; she felt slightly guilty for yelling at House now that she could see he didn't look all that well – she wanted to yell at his sidekick instead.

"Family emergency…said he'd be back at some point" House lied; 'no point in dropping him in it quite yet' he thought as he leant his head back into the couch, his neck aching after his awkward nap.

"How are you – what's the swelling like now?"

"It's better" House lied, he didn't know what the swelling was like – he'd been asleep for God knows how long!

"You're cold" she noted as she saw the fine hair raised on his arms as he hugged a pillow against his aching body, "probably something to do with the fact you're sitting there wearing nothing but a towel and a t shirt – but it could also be a sign of internal bleeding-"

"Hmmph, could also have a lot to do with the fact that the heating doesn't seem to be on – what time is it?"

"A little after 11" Cuddy replied as she kicked her shoes off and settled down in House's recliner with a magazine, ignoring the incredulous stare being firmly planted on her by the owner of both.

"That late?" House murmured to himself, trying to figure out what time Wilson had stormed off earlier, "What are you doing?" he asked as he watched Cuddy apparently engrossed in the mag.

"Babysitting 'til Wilson gets back" she replied without looking up from the evidently interesting reading material. He pulled a disgruntled face and, seeing that she was happy to ignore him, decided that he'd be more comfortable in his own bed, away from 'the babysitter.'

He sighed, then placed the pillow on the floor by his feet, bracing his arms either side of him, getting ready to stand. Cuddy flicked her eyes up at the movement, about to voice her discouragement at the action before she was silenced by a curse from House as he painfully pushed himself up to his feet.

"Where are you going?" she asked warily, putting the magazine down in favour of watching him instead – she winced as she saw him painfully hop on his good leg, jolting his ribs and his bad leg, no doubt.

"Bed…" he groaned as he leant to grab his cane from its position beside the couch; he drew in a sharp breath as he completely lost focus and stumbled forward. Luckily, Cuddy had foreseen this happening as she witnessed the colour drain from his face completely when he stood; she nimbly ducked under his overbalanced body and attempted to brace his fall the best she could by wrapping one arm around his waist and going down with him onto the other.

"House – you okay?" she gasped, as she found herself crumpled up underneath his limp body; she was rewarded with a groan as he sluggishly dragged his arms out from where they had ended up, partly under her back. "Whoa, just lean back there" she ordered as she gently pushed House into a sitting position against the couch. "I don't need to be a doctor to tell you that your blood pressure just took a nose dive…"

"Just stood up too soon and too quickly" House moaned as he held his head with one hand and his ribs with the other; the fall hadn't been particularly good for the already battered bones. "Help me up" he ordered weakly as he regained his vision.

"What? You expect me to carry you to your room now – I'm calling an ambulance" Cuddy said as she stood up, wincing at the pain that shot through her arm as she reached over to her coat to retrieve her cell phone.

"I don't need an ambulance – I just need to get to my bed" House said slowly, struggling to get each word out between gasping as he leaned to his right in another attempt to get to his feet.

"You might not need one, but I do – and I'm not leaving you here alone"

"What?" House asked blearily, "What have you done?"

"_I_ haven't done anything – _you,_ on the other hand…you seem to have broken my wrist" she said bitterly as she held her poorly wrist in her other hand and fiddled with her cell; 'next time Lisa, just leave him to wallow alone…that way you won't get hurt!' she thought miserably, wincing as she tried to bend her wrist.

"Shit – let me see" House said urgently, giving up on actually trying to stand for the time being.

Cuddy looked at him suspiciously for a moment before sitting beside him on the floor and releasing her bad arm into his care; she couldn't tell if this uncharacteristic concern for another individual was genuine or not.

"Don't stare at me as though I'm some kind of alien – I_ am_ capable of acting like a human being…sometimes…" he mumbled as he took her hand and twisted it so her palm faced upwards, making her hiss in pain. "I did say 'sometimes'!" he defended as she glared daggers at him. "It's broken" he concluded.

"Yeah, I already knew that…hence the whole 'needing to go to hospital' thing…"

"Just making sure you weren't faking it to get me there" he admitted sheepishly.

Cuddy shook her head in amazement before standing and ringing through to the service desk at PPTH on the off chance that an off duty ambulance might be in the area; she didn't want to take somebody else's lifeline away from them just for a measly broken bone.

"Damn" she cursed as she snapped the cell closed, "trust you to pick the day when there's an eight car pile up on the interstate" she sighed at defenceless House, who was still stuck on the floor.

"Yeah…this is entirely my fault – I _made_ you come here and get in my way during my second skydiving session"

"Well, if you answered your phone – I wouldn't be here! Now I'm stuck here…"

"I know this goes against everything you've ever lived by…but you do realise that there are _other ways_ to get to hospitals other than ambulances, don't you?"

"I can't drive – and you're definitely not driv-"

"They're called cabs, Cuddy!" House said exasperatedly, wishing that he wasn't stuck on his floor feeling helpless "taxis, cabs – taxicabs…there's a bunch of numbers by my phone over there, ring one."

Cuddy scowled at him before picking through a stack of business cards by his phone, picking one that had the most scribbled dates and times on it – obviously the most regularly used of them all.

She placed the order and hung up; "It'll be here in 10 minutes – it's gonna be $20…"

House sighed realising the implications of the last statement, "If' you'd be so kind as to pass me my pants from…the bathroom, I think – I'll pay for the ride since its 'all my fault'…" he made a point to imitate Cuddy on the last part, not bothering to turn and observe her reaction.

"Thanks…I think" she replied, sitting on the edge of the couch.

"Err; I do want my clothes sometime before the cab gets here"

"Oh yeah" she exclaimed, looking at his bare legs that, surprisingly, still had the towel wrapped firmly around them. "I'll grab you some – hang on"

"I wasn't seriously considering going anywhere" he said to her retreating backside as she ran off down the hall to get his jeans.

House groaned as he felt his vision blur again, 'maybe Cuddy's right about the internal bleeding thing - good job we're heading to the hospital – not that I'm gonna let her know that…'

**Author's Note: Yep, I'm still plodding along with this fic…hopefully you didn't fall asleep reading it? Oh well, it's not as demanding as Voodoo Child – even _I'm _confused by that one! But seriously, let me know what you want and I'll write it in somewhere… x**


	5. Chapter 5

House stumbled out of his front door, closely followed by Cuddy; his convincing 'I'm fine' front certainly had Cuddy fooled for the time being, but it was becoming difficult to keep up the ruse.

He'd managed to stand without falling flat on his face, which was a definite improvement from 10 minutes earlier when he'd come close to flattening his boss. He cheekily shoved her out through the front door and followed; apparently he stood, gripping the door handle for a microsecond too long because Cuddy turned to face him with a look of concern plastered on her face.

"You okay?" Cuddy asked in that nauseatingly patronizing tone, as if she didn't expect a truthful answer before he'd even opened his mouth.

"Yep – I'm fantastic" 'why let her down, she'd probably pass out if you told her you hurt like hell and would be quite happy to curl up and die on your front doorstep right now – then you'd have to get up and carry her to the damn cab...that ain't gonna happen in this lifetime' he thought as he attempted to drag his bad leg as far as possible without using his cane.

He waited for Cuddy to get in the cab before he popped one vicodin; he didn't want to risk two, especially when he was having trouble keeping tabs on how many he'd already had.

Cuddy opened the door to the cab with her good arm, she slid in and waited for House who seemed to be taking his sweet time; she groaned as she realized that her favourite bracelet had snapped off in the fall. "It was an accident" she sighed under her breath as House threw himself down in the seat next to her, grunting with the movement.

"I know you're only coming with me because somewhere deep down in that head of yours, you feel guilty for hurting me" Cuddy stated as the cab pulled off to PPTH.

House stared at her in the dull lighting of the cab, letting her hold onto her ideal belief for approximately 12 seconds..."actually, I'm coming with you because I'm desperate to know how far we can push the nurse's rumour that we're secret lovers" Cuddy sighed in disappointment as he continued, apparently he was seriously giving it thought "Ooh, please let me fill in your ER form – you're a lefty aren't you...cool, In the box for 'How did the accident occur?' I'm gonna write 'refer to page 26 of the Karma Sutra ' sound good to you?" he looked to her expectantly.

"No!" she said eventually, growing tired of his company already; "maybe you should have stayed at home"

"Hey, I broke it; the least I can do is see how bad it is..." House said softly, apparently surprising himself with his new found sensitivity; "need something to brag about when I tell Wilson." 'nice recovery' he acknowledged as Cuddy rolled her eyes in exasperation.

They made it all the way to PPTH without killing each other, despite a few close calls; House paid for the cab without too much fuss and wasn't surprised to find Cuddy almost sprinting ahead of him to get fixed before anyone realised that they'd arrived together.

"Women" House muttered to the cab driver before, he too, left him in the parking lot.

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It took less that twenty minutes for Cuddy to get x rayed, much to the annoyance of several other patients who had been admitted before she'd even arrived. 'Why did you have to go to his apartment...' she thought as she sat in the small waiting area; 'he's old enough to look after himself…he did collapse though – probably not a good sign'

"Dr Cuddy" a nurse called as she scurried over to where the Dean was waiting; Cuddy sighed, still lost in thought, 'why did I choose to come here? Any other hospital in the area and I wouldn't be recognized...'

"Dr Cuddy" the nurse asked again, unsure as to whether the Dean was really ignoring her or not.

"Yes?" Cuddy snapped in exasperation; clearly the nurse wasn't going to go away.

"Are you here with Dr House?" the elderly nurse asked breathlessly.

"Okay, we arrived together and I don't know what he's been saying, but I can assure you that we are not-"

"He's just collapsed in the waiting area" the nurse said abruptly, not wishing to interrupt her boss mid-rant but feeling that maybe she'd gotten the wrong end of the stick.

"Oh...is he okay?" 'House, you idiot – yeah you're really fine aren't you?'

"I...think so"

"What do you mean you 'think so'?" Cuddy asked, unable to mask the building annoyance in her tone, "who is with him?"

"A couple of nursing students and the receptionist are with him – I thought I'd better get you as soon as it happened" the nurse looked like she would burst into tears at any moment. 'See, this is why you went to see him...because you're the only person sane enough to handle him when he's pretending not to be sick!' she thought angrily.

"He's obviously not unconscious then" she said under her breath as she followed the ruffled woman back to the waiting room.

She could already see a group of people gathered around one of the rows of chairs; no doubt gawking at the crippled man, 'he's gonna be so pissed' she thought as she attempted to clear the area. "Okay, can you give us some room here please?" she asked rhetorically to the small gathering of nurses and stray hospital personnel.

Wincing as she caught site of House glaring brokenly at the poor students, she managed to shoo them out of the way before he could muster up enough strength to insult them.

"What happened?" she hissed, more aggressively than she'd wanted to; she felt like adding 'I leave you alone for _ten minutes_ and you do this to me' but she felt that it would make them sound _even more_ like they were a couple, so best to keep it impersonal.

"Got up too quick – no need to panic" he shot back immediately as Cuddy took on her authoritative stance; arms folded and brow suitable furrowed questioningly.

"You can't use the same excuse twice House – you're getting another x ray, I'll drag you in there, kicking and screaming if I have to" she was going to add more but was stunned to see him nodding at her proposal "you _want_ an x ray now?"

"Can we leave out the kicking and screaming part?" came his apparently offhanded reply, "not really feeling up to it..." he added as his eyes drifted over to a nearby wheelchair, then to his cane which was still laying on the floor.

Cuddy winced out of his sight as she caught the meaningful glance; "okay" she said as she brought the wheelchair over for him, "get in"

House inwardly sighed with relief as she allowed him to use the wheelchair with minimum fuss; 'good old Cuddy, no need to make a scene' he thought as he lowered himself shakily into the chair.

"You okay?" Cuddy asked tentatively as she pushed the wheelchair along to radiology, with House getting more and more embarrassed by the minute. 'This isn't right – I'm supposed to be making _her_ feel embarrassed' he thought, feeling his cheeks flush as a couple of nurses smirked at them going by.

"Don't you have a cast to be getting on?" he asked as he desperately attempted to take over the pushing of the chair; it was beginning to make him feel pathetic, being pushed by someone with a broken wrist, especially when that someone was his boss.

"Err, just let me get you to the waiting area" she replied, almost losing her footing as House tried to speed away in the chair; he didn't make it very far because of the intense stabbing in his torso. "Take your hands off the wheels, House – I'm driving" she ordered as he rolled to a halt some 5 metres away from her.

"Sure thing boss" he mock saluted back, groaning again as he forgot about his damn ribs. 'You've broken ribs before, you wuss…I don't remember it being this painful though' he thought miserably as he dug around in his jacket pocket for his vicodin.

He swallowed two as they approached the busy waiting area; it was certainly a busy night for x rays. 'Maybe I can have some fun while I'm waiting – at least to try and take the edge off the pain' he thought as he glared at a 'construction worker-looking' type who stood up to let Cuddy have a seat...target number one.

"You know, if you'd come in earlier in the week – when you _actually_ broke your thumb – it wouldn't hurt that much…let me guess, you did it on _Tuesday_ and couldn't get the time off work to get it checked out?" House addressed the huge worker who was holding his hand protectively around his opposing thumb, "Do you know how busy these places get with idiots like you turning up and crowding the place?"

"Huh?" the man didn't expect to be interrogated by the pale looking guy in a wheelchair and was unable to think of a suitable response before House continued.

"Your thumb is a nice shade of green – now normally I'd expect it after, lets say _a few hours_, to be purple or possibly blue – not green…but, judging by the way the cut has miraculously healed around the bruising; you're either coming in late or you're superhuman" House regarded the hefty man, drawing his own conclusions "you're not hiding a cape under there are you? I hope not because the thought of you in a skin tight cat suit is making me nauseous." Before the stunned man could answer, or hit him, House found himself being wheeled over to another part of the waiting area.

"Can't you shut up for two minutes?" Cuddy hissed exasperatedly as she turned the chair to face the wall; effectively she may have saved more innocent bystanders the confusion and hassle of a conversation with House. Needless to say, House didn't see it that way at all.

"If it wasn't for morons like him, stumbling in here on a Friday night, I'd have my x ray done by now" House moaned to the wall, unwilling to twist around to face his target – luckily for him, Cuddy leaned against the wall beside him to throw in a lecture, which meant that twisting didn't have to come into the equation.

"You think you're better than him – I get it!" Cuddy said, throwing her hands in the air in mock defeat before pausing, "…didn't you fall into a coffee table?"

"That was different-"

"Yeah, you were drunk!"

"Wilson has a big mouth…listen, I think I heard someone calling your name" House said, pointing through the crowd in a desperate attempt to get her off his back; he'd dropped himself in it there – 'I'm sure I didn't tell her how I did it' he thought as he tried to ignore her smug look. "Seriously, listen…"

"Dr Cuddy – they're ready for you now" a nurse said as she picked her way through the Friday night crowd; House sighed and silently thanked the wall as Cuddy made to walk off – she turned quickly and pointed a finger menacingly at him.

"House - Stay." she said loud and clear; holding the palm of her right hand out to reiterate the point; she smirked as House scowled at her, as she began backing down the corridor to get her cast fitted.

Now all he had to do was wait for his second x ray without getting beaten up by the burley construction worker who had just figured out that he'd been insulted by a cripple…'oh crap'

**Author's Note: Still taking my sweet time with this one…and I'm enjoying myself! So don't expect it to change much over the next few chapters…let me know what you think though – and what you want (although most of you do that already!) x**


	6. Chapter 6

"You're still waiting?" Cuddy asked exasperatedly as she returned, cast on her wrist and cup of coffee in her other hand. House was slumped in the chair, tapping his cane on the tiled floor of the waiting room; he looked close to breaking point, as did the burly construction worker who flinched every time the rubber tip bounced off of the hard surface.

"We're up next, provided you can outrun Rambo there" he said, pointing at the giant man with the broken thumb; Cuddy turned to look at who he was referring to, meaning that House used that opportunity to grab her coffee and take a few huge gulps, almost emptying the container thirstily.

"He _was_ here before you" Cuddy reminded him in a hushed tone as she surrendered her well earned coffee to him; clearly the two men had been participating in some sort of standoff since she'd been gone, "have you really not been seen yet?" she asked in disbelief as she noted the, now almost empty, waiting room.

"I know it must be hard for you to believe…but your hospital has crappy waiting periods – especially when you're not here to crack the whip" House mumbled as he saw the door to the x ray department move as the last patient exited; he shot a look to the construction worker who'd also seen the development and was shifting about in his seat.

"We've got the best ER turnover in the state-" Cuddy started defending her baby as House braced his left foot against the wall beside her, dropped the coffee cup and thrust his file into her hands. "What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously as it quickly dawned on her what was about to happen, "House, no!"

Too late. House pushed himself with his foot and sent the wheelchair, and himself, hurtling towards the construction worker's legs just as the doctor came out and called "Who's next?" Before the hefty worker could get his body out of the way, he'd found himself trapped between two chairs, a look of bewilderment plastered over his features; it didn't help that House had begun to wave to get Cuddy's attention, "go go go!" he hissed as he felt the man behind him trying to break free from his trap.

Cuddy looked just as confused as the other guy as she walked over to the double doors and handed the doctor House's file; she turned around just in time to see House grinning smugly to himself as he prepared to fake an apology to his victim.

"Oh God, I'm_ so_ sorry – I didn't see you there!" House bumbled convincingly as he hunched himself lower in the chair, "I don't suppose you could push me over there, could you?" he asked cheekily as the big man sighed, seeing that he was beaten by the cripple once again, "broken ribs you see – as well as the bum leg"

House managed to get pushed all the way to the double doors before Cuddy wisely took over, 'surely there has to be a limit to this man's tolerance for House's obnoxious behaviour' she thought as the man returned angrily to his seat.

"Was it so important to get in front of him?" she asked when they were clear of the waiting room, having entered the x ray room.

"Absolutely" House replied as he gingerly pulled himself out of the chair using his cane and the nearby wall to help him.

"You don't think you were being just a _little_ rude to that guy?"

"Absolutely" he gasped as he found once again that there was no way he was going to be able to stand for the x ray; he could swear that the pain in his ribs had moved – it almost seemed lower down that before…weird.

Cuddy could see the transformation his face went through as he stood; it went from pink to white in the space of about three seconds. She grabbed hold of his arm as he swayed slightly, testing which was a good place to lean with his cane; when he didn't scowl at her for the moment, Cuddy had that nagging feeling, in the back of her mind, that he was in a lot more pain than he was letting on.

"Are you okay?" she asked cautiously as she remembered what happened last time they were in this position; she braced herself against the wall with her elbow, thankful that they were in a small room for once. "You gonna pass out on me again?" she asked warily, getting a scowl in return.

"I did not pass out" House argued as he carefully limped the three steps to the small gurney and dropped down onto it with an "oomph"

"Then the whole 'collapsing on top of me and using me to break your fall' thing was probably a bad idea" Cuddy said, holding up her casted wrist and wincing.

"You should have that in a sling" House said quietly, a slight tinge of red colouring his cheeks and the tips of his ears, "…just for a few days"

Cuddy smirked at his apparent embarrassment, "this is fun, I don't think I've ever seen you this sheepish before" she said as the nurse came in to help House get prepared for the x ray, "but seriously, get someone to page me when you're done" she ordered as she collected her things to leave.

"Whoa - where're you going?" House asked more urgently than he'd planned. Cuddy stopped in her tracks and turned to face him; he could feel his face flushing again as he did his best not to look worried. 'What's the matter with you?' he thought warily as he tried to avoid Cuddy's bemused look.

"I'm going to get myself another coffee…did you want me to stay and hold your hand or something?" she asked boldly, 'Oh, its nice having the upper hand for a change' her inner demon chuckled as she watched him squirm.

"Just make sure you're back before King Kong gets his ugly butt in here, demanding his x ray, need you to push me…and make sure you put at least two sugars in your next coffee" he added pathetically as she smiled disconcertingly at him, then left.

He sighed unconsciously as he watched her leave, completely oblivious to the nurse who was trying to get him to lay down; 'you're definitely losing it' he thought miserably as he painfully lowered himself down and prepared for his second set of x rays...

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Wilson sighed as House's home phone once again went through to the machine after several rings. "Maybe I should just shoot round there – make sure everything's okay…" he said to his date, who seemed more interested in the drink she was cradling as she sat on his lap.

"He's probably with Dr Cuddy – from what I hear, they're pretty close these days" she replied exasperatedly as she fiddled with his tie, attempting to seduce him away from his cell. "Oh my God! He's a grown man!" she exclaimed as he put the cell to his ear again.

"He's…disabled" Wilson said quietly, as though House may be able to hear him from wherever he was, "he needs someone to watch out for him"

"Yeah, like a personal assistant – not you!"

"He needs a friend" Wilson said angrily as he pushed the young nurse off of his lap; House's machine had once again been kicked into action. 'What were you thinking – House was right, she's an immature, life-sized Barbie doll!' he thought as he watched her pout.

"Look - I've got to go" he said, hastily leaving the small booth and heading to the door. He briefly heard the young woman hurl a number of abusive curses at him over the loud music and he smirked to himself, 'maybe she's more of House's kind of girl after all…'

He reached his car, thankful that he had decided to drive tonight and not drink; he sat in it for a moment, waiting for his hearing to return to something resembling normal. He got his cell out again, 'maybe you should ring Cuddy' he thought as he recalled the 5 missed calls he'd ignored earlier in the night, 'she's going to be so annoyed that you haven't returned her call…but, she's probably in bed'

Sighing, he chucked his phone on the seat beside him, started the car and set off to House's apartment; 'hopefully by now, he'll be in a better mood…oh, who are you kidding – this is House!'

It took barely ten minutes for Wilson to reach the door of House's apartment; now that he was outside, he didn't know what to do, he had one hand on the doorknob and the other one pressed against his forehead.

"Okay…" he whispered as he unlocked the door and made his way inside; he was a little unprepared to find the lights off and no sign of House on the couch where he'd been left.

"House?" Wilson called out as his curiosity drew him down the hall, 'maybe he's gone to bed…' he thought as he leant in through the bedroom door, trying to listen out for any sounds coming from within.

Puzzled by his friend's apparent disappearing act, Wilson wandered into the kitchen to investigate further; House had, in total, 10 messages on his answering machine, three from Wilson and seven from Cuddy.

'Time to ring Cuddy then' he thought warily, pulling out his cell and dialling her number; he frowned as he saw the towel that House had wrapped around his mid section, discarded on the floor, 'please don't be semi naked when I find you!' he thought as he heard Cuddy sharply answer her cell.

"Err, hi – its Wilson…I was – err - just wondering if you'd seen House?" he stammered, trying to sound casual.

"He's in the hospital" Cuddy said on the other end of the line, attempting to hold her cell and a rather hot cup of coffee in the same hand…it wasn't working too well.

"He's what?" Wilson snapped, 'oh no – this is all your fault!'

"He's fine – just getting his second x ray – look, I'd really appreciate it is you can get down here and pick him up - provided your family emergency is all sorted now?"

"My what?" Wilson asked, clearly confused.

"House said you had a family emergency or something…?"

"Oh yeah, yeah…it's fine, err, sorted – I'll be right over!" Wilson replied nervously as he strode towards the door and put the phone down sharply. 'Oh well, at least House didn't tell her about the date…'

On the other end of the line Cuddy couldn't help feeling like there was something amiss with the whole conversation; she didn't have long to ponder over it before a young nurse jogged up to her.

"Dr Cuddy – it's Dr House" the nurse said breathlessly, "he's passed out in radiology"


	7. Chapter 7

"What happened – did you stand up too fast again?" Cuddy ranted as she burst through the double doors to the x ray room where she'd left her 'patient'. If sympathy was what he expected, he would be unpleasantly surprised to find that Cuddy's sympathetic streak had left her some time after he'd used her as his personal crash mat.

House, the patient in question, was groggily attempting to fend off a nurse who was trying to keep him laying on his back. He scowled as he looked up and spotted Cuddy storming up to him, looking every bit as angry as she sounded.

"He didn't fall – he wasn't even sitting up, let alone standing" the attending nurse explained as she gave up on her futile attempts at keeping him down.

"So…he just passed out whilst lying down?" Cuddy asked, usable to hide the concern in her question but still refusing to address House at all; as far as she was concerned, this could easily have been avoided if he was capable of actually behaving normally and letting people know when he was hurting.

"Don't mind me – I'll be off now" House said as he tried to use his cane to drag the nearby wheelchair towards him, unable to compete with the burley orderly who refused to let up his grip on the handles. He groaned miserably as another sharp bolt of pain went searing through his rib cage; he was almost disappointed to see that the orderly didn't seem to care much for his amateur dramatics and he kept his sturdy grip on the chair.

"I came through to help him up but he was unconscious" the nurse explained, ignoring the look of disbelief she was getting from House as he turned his attention back to the conversation, "he was completely unresponsive to stimuli for over two minutes-"

"I was asleep!" House protested feebly from his hunched over position on the gurney; Cuddy turned to face him momentarily, a look of determination on her face. She remained silent but put a finger up to stop him from continuing; House seriously thought she was going to hit him soon, or worse – make him sit through another lecture, so naturally he wanted out of there as soon as possible.

"When he came to, he was confused and disorientated-" the nurse continued.

"You can't be confused _and_ disorientated – they're the same thing!" House complained insistently in the background as he made a grab for his cane, which was conveniently located by the head of the gurney; he could see that Cuddy was going to admit him if he wasn't careful – and there was no way in hell he was going to let that happen, not when he'd already been granted a week away from this place.

"You're not going anywhere" Cuddy said as she put a restraining hand on House's shoulder as he made to stand; it didn't take much to keep him down she found.

"Other people do need to use this room you know" he replied seriously, especially as he thought back to the construction worker and his life threateningly broken thumb; he must have hit a nerve because Cuddy frowned then motioned for the orderly to help him into the wheelchair. "Right"

"Open up the clinic – put him in exam room one" she instructed after watching House fend off the large orderly to collapse into the chair himself, "the last thing I need is more patient complaints" she added, also remembering the poor man with the broken thumb from the waiting area. "I'll meet you in there" she coolly addressed him as he observed her façade from the wheelchair. 'She is _so_ pissed with you right now' he thought as he put on his best fake-remorseful face.

House remained silent as the unfriendly orderly pushed him out through the waiting room without attempting to ask him if he was okay, which suited him down to the ground; he was in no mood for conversation as he desperately tried to recall what had just happened in radiology.

He remembered the nurse telling him to stay still, purely because he'd replied with a sarcastic comment about not feeling up to doing anything _but_ being still at that moment in time. He'd felt something _off_ in his stomach, again. Then there was a blank. He'd come to when he'd felt a firm hand on his shoulder, shaking it to wake him up. Weird…'maybe you did more than just break the damn ribs…' he mused as he ran a hand over the swollen area, giving up when the pain became close to making him cry out in agony, 'maybe that's not such a good idea'

"Err, will you be okay here?" the orderly dared to ask, cutting through the delicate silence that had been maintained so far; House had been curled over in the chair, one arm draped firmly round his waist as he felt more sharp pangs in his ribs…and lower torso. He raised his head to nod to the other man, hoping desperately that he wouldn't have to speak; something told him that talking would be an effort right now. At least he could suffer in peace in the deserted clinic; maybe Cuddy was doing him as much of a favour as she'd done the rest of the hospital by holing him up in there alone.

After the orderly obediently trotted off, House got down to business by standing; he gingerly stripped off his t shirt (for what felt like the hundredth time that day!) and pulled over the flimsy fluorescent lamp over to inspect his, now even more colourful, torso. The swelling seemed to have reached its peak and was slowly subsiding to reveal the true extent of the breakages, the jagged, uneven lines of where his ribs certainly shouldn't be. It looked as though they had a life of their own and were no longer willing to be a part of his body.

"Nice" House growled as he gripped the sideboard a little harder; he took a painfully deep breath to try and clear the dots dancing in front of his eyes. He was forced back down in the chair when his vision completely blacked out, although he was aware of the clicking of Cuddy's footsteps coming through the deadly quiet reception area.

"Wilson's coming to take you home-" she started as she entered the brightly lit room, only to be caught speechless as she beheld the sight of a semi naked, blanched and panting House, for the second time that day.

"Over friendly orderly" House explained whilst trying to reach his t shirt from the counter; Cuddy sighed and passed him the elusive object. She made a brisk attempt at clearing the relatively spotless exam room; only because watching House feebly attempting to dress himself was exasperating beyond belief. She then passed him his x ray films, knowing full well that whatever she said, he wouldn't believe until he'd examined them for himself.

"Shit – well no wonder...!" he exclaimed as he held up the first film to the light; Cuddy turned to take a look, gasping as she saw what had him so excited on the film...


	8. Chapter 8

"That explains why I can hardly stand" he mumbled quietly to himself as he compared the films; they clearly showed that he'd fractured the bottom three ribs on his right side and that one had caused unknown damage to his abdominal area.

House was almost certain that it was affecting his right Kidney; you could put it down to the fact that he knew a little about that particular organ or it could be that he had a gut feeling...a very painful gut feeling. He zoned back in and realised that Cuddy was talking to him, or rather; Cuddy was moaning at him and expecting him to take it like a man.

"Maybe if you had mentioned the unbearable pain earlier, we could have avoided the whole passing out repeatedly issue" Cuddy seethed as she snatched the films from House's hand and motioned for him to lean forward. "You're a doctor, House. How did you miss this?"

"Oh yeah, 'cos my first thought on a patient with broken ribs is always 'hmm I wonder if they've got Renal trauma'!" House replied sarcastically as he allowed her to lift up his t shirt. He hissed as she pressed around the tender area; sometimes he truly believed she enjoyed seeing him in agony.

"Localised tenderness; I assume you're in a substantial amount of pain, even through the Vicodin induced haze?" she asked condescendingly.

"Ooh, that was _way_ below the belt" House moaned, still hunched over in the chair, "Which reminds me" he added, taking out his beloved Vicodin and swallowing two before Cuddy could stop him; although they both knew that if he'd laid off it, he would have passed out from the pain completely by now.

"Blood in your urine?" she asked in a cold, clinical manner; even House could see that she was not in the mood for being messed about.

"Err, haven't peed in a while" he admitted, thinking back through the day; 'maybe she's right about the Vicodin induced haze' he thought as he struggled to recall how and when he'd gotten home from the hospital earlier.

"How long?" she asked sounding not far off being concerned at the distant look that had engulfed his features; 'maybe I should keep a tally on how many pills he's taking'

"About a day" he relied after a few seconds of frowning to himself.

"House, you're a Nephrologist; doesn't that worry you?"

"Well, I had assumed I might be slightly dehydrated considering the amount of alcohol I had to drink last night" he defended himself wisely; he didn't need Cuddy accusing him of being an idiot after all.

"What about the coffee you drank here?" she asked as she pulled his t shirt down and made him sit back in the chair, "is it ready to make an appearance?" the question floated around the room for several seconds before the implications became clear.

"Whoa there! You want to watch me pee?" House asked in disbelief; he was having serious doubts that his night could possibly get any worse. "There _are_ other ways of getting my pants off you know?"

"You obviously can't be trusted to let me know what's going on; so I'm going to treat you like any other awkward patient…want me to push?" she asked innocently as she took control of the chair, ignoring his pleas for her to stop.

"No – wait!" House grabbed hold of the sideboard in desperation, knowing that he couldn't hold on for long with the knowledge that his broken ribs were damaging his Kidney further; but there was no way in hell he was going to stand there in front of Cuddy, especially with her tapping her foot and checking her watch every two seconds waiting for him to pee blood!

"House" Both Cuddy and House turned towards the door on hearing his name being called to find Wilson standing there looking bewildered. "What's going on?"

"Cuddy wants to take me into the gents to molester me" House said, still breathing heavily from the sideboard grabbing, which had clearly been a bad idea.

"Why…What happened?" Wilson asked, unable to stop himself from staring at House in the wheelchair and Cuddy with a cast on her left arm; he felt like he'd missed out on something important.

"He collapsed on me, broke my wrist" Cuddy said as she handed the oncologist House's scans, "and now _you're _going to take him to the bathroom"

"_Okaaay_" Wilson said slowly as he looked to House for answers.

"Cuddy wants you to see if there's blood in my urine – doesn't trust me; 'course I don't know the first thing about Kidneys…they're reproductive organs, right?" House shook his head in fake confusion as he watched Cuddy futilely trying to stay composed; he had a feeling that if he didn't have blood in his urine _now_, he'd certainly have it there after Cuddy had finished assaulting him for being so damned annoying!

"I'm sure you've got it under control" Wilson assured Cuddy, trying not to smirk as House scowled at him; he waited for whatever rebuttal House had ready, sure that he could handle it.

"How's Barbie doing?"

"Actually, we won't be a minute" Wilson said sharply as he took over wheeling House out of the area, this time it was House's turn to smirk as Wilson scowled.

"Who's Barbie?" Cuddy asked before they got out of hearing range; Wilson attempted to speed up before House could incriminate him further.

"Wilson's sick auntie" House yelled when he was pushed into the restroom door as Wilson desperately attempted to get him in first; "Ow! Jeez, are you trying to break my legs?"

"Are you _trying_ to get me into trouble?" Wilson hissed as he made sure the coast was clear; although who he expected to find hiding in the clinic's male restroom was anyone's guess.

"What? Cuddy thinks we're talking about your 'family emergency'!" House whined innocently as he gingerly pulled himself out of the chair.

"House, no one – and I mean _no one_ – has an Aunt Barbie" Wilson spluttered back as he unconsciously positioned himself behind the other man in case he decided to take an unscheduled tumble.

"Well, now you do – how was your date?"

"Awful; you were right" Wilson admitted freely as he tried to avoid watching his best friend relieve his bladder; although, by the sounds of it, there wasn't a lot of cascading going on. "How's your pee?"

"Nonexistent…although I'm not used to peeing on demand; never been into water sports" he mumbled as he leant a little further onto the wall for support; his leg didn't appreciate being used again after settling down nicely for the past couple of hours in the wheelchair.

"…It's not happening" he announced dejectedly as he did his best to get back in the chair with minor jostling; the fact that he was certain that his ribs were ripping up his insides was enough to make him wary of sudden movements and be extra careful for a change.

"What should I tell Cuddy?"

House glared at Wilson, "Tell her what you like; I'm not gonna tell her about your date…although I'd avoid getting too close to her"

"Why?"

"Because you stink…" he paused, watching Wilson roll his eyes, "of smoke – so unless you can convince her that your Aunt Barbie is a chain smoker or she lives in a cheap bar…" he trailed off and raised his eyebrows, smirking when Wilson began fanning his jacket in an attempt at getting rid of the Marlboro musk. "That's right, we'll just pretend you don't have a bottle of Hugo Boss just sitting in your desk right now…"

"I don't keep it in there anymore" Wilson said indignantly as he used the hand dryer, futilely, to blow the smoke out from his clothes.

"Oh that's right…don't need it now that you're not married; no need to cover up the smell of another woman's perfume" House couldn't catch his tongue in time and dared not look up at Wilson's reaction to his claim.

Luckily, Wilson wasn't paying too much attention to his friend because he'd found a can of air freshener to spray all over himself, much to House's annoyance. "That – stinks – even more!" House spluttered and groaned as he held his arm around his stomach, trying to guard his ribs as he coughed uncontrollably from inhaling the nasty floral gas.

"Is everything okay in there?" both men heard Cuddy call through the door; she was getting restless waiting for them to return, no doubt.

"Err, yeah" Wilson shouted back, "everything's fine!"

"Everything's not fine – I can hardly breathe here!" House growled angrily; Wilson quickly pushed the wheelchair back through the door, just in case she'd heard and was worried by his statement.

Cuddy watched the two men emerge from the men's room amid a cloud of floral scented smoke; Wilson looking extremely rumpled and House, red faced and eyes streaming, looking very agitated.

"I knocked the air freshener over" Wilson lied as he straightened out his shirt.

"Okay…so, what's the verdict?" Cuddy didn't waste her time getting back to the subject of House's urine; he found this mildly disturbing to say the least.

"No blood, no urine, no nothing" he announced. "Can I go home yet?" Needless to say, he was sick and tired of this place; he was tired, thirsty and suffering – Cuddy must have noticed because her demeanour altered slightly.

"As long as you take it easy, I can't see any reason why you can't go home; but make sure you get-"

"Bed rest and Antibiotics – thanks" House interrupted, rolling his eyes at how little Cuddy trusted him.

"You'll need 48 hour observation – at least" she continued, ignoring the fact that he didn't seem to be paying attention to her. "I've scheduled you for another x ray on Monday; unless you think you need an excretory urogram?"

"Nope" he replied sharply, cringing at the thought of some greasy intern injecting him with contrast dye and taking pictures of his Kidneys.

"I'll book you in with Peterson for Urologic care-"

"No way – I'll do it myself" House stated heatedly, cutting her off before she could ask him if it was okay.

"Why? What have you said to Peterson?" Cuddy asked suspiciously.

"What makes you think I've said something to him?" House caught the knowing glare from his boss and gave in, "Okay, well…I _might_ have mentioned the fact that I'm a Nephrologist and I _still_ know more about Urology than he does…and he _might_ have taken it as an insult…perhaps" he trailed off guiltily.

"No, ya think?" Cuddy asked sarcastically as she closed up the exam rooms; sometimes she couldn't even pretend to be surprised at House's exploits with other members of her staff. "When did you let him know of this 'important fact'?"

"Last Christmas party" House said quietly, being sure not to catch her eye.

"Last Christmas…No! He's the guy who gave you a black eye!" she realised excitedly; her realisation was pretty much confirmed when House scowled angrily – she smirked but decided to let him off for the time being; Karma seemed to have been dealt accordingly for his comments already and she didn't consider herself a cruel person by any means!

"Wilson can take you home, right?" she asked, adding the questioning tone but making it sound very rhetorical. Wilson snapped his head up at the sound of his name; he'd been standing well away from his boss for fear that he really did smell like an ashtray.

'Damn House and his ability to turn you into a paranoid idiot' he thought when he realised he must have looked pretty disinterested in their conversation by standing the other side of the nurses station.

"I need a ride too, is that okay?" Wilson nodded in reply as he pushed House out through the clinic doors, allowing Cuddy to lock up. "You can look after him tomorrow can't you?" she asked hopefully, leaning in close behind Wilson in the hope that House couldn't hear her.

"Tomorrow? I can't – I've got appointments" Wilson stammered as he stepped away from her. "He'll have to stay with you" these words put fear into Cuddy's heart.

"I-I can't, why me?" she stuttered.

"If you're gonna talk about me, at least come and stand in front of me" House sighed as he tilted his head back to catch a glimpse of the two of them.

"We're going to yours, getting you some clothes, overnight stuff…then we're going back to mine" Cuddy said quietly as she shot Wilson a look which would have made any man feel guilty; he felt like he was making her take care of Jack the Ripper for the weekend.

"Well you could act a little happier" House stated whilst smiling disconcertingly, "just think of how much fun we've had together today" clearly this was the wrong thing to say to her as she used her good hand to pinch the bridge of her nose in exasperation. She had a feeling that she would end up murdering him in the most horrific way known to man by the end of the weekend…

**Author's Note: Still plodding along, hopefully it didn't seem too boring? Oh well, I'm enjoying it, even if you aren't! Let me know what you think, or what you want in the next chapter – this one was a pretty good length for me, even if I do say so myself! Happy Easter x**


	9. Chapter 9

House grimaced as he stubbornly transferred himself from the wheelchair to Wilson's car; Cuddy refused to watch yet another act of House-stupidity, whereas Wilson stood close by, waiting to return the chair as soon as it was fully vacated...which was taking a long, long time.

"Yell if you need a hand" Wilson said, for the umpteenth time, flinching whilst watching his friend wince repeatedly, hanging onto the car for dear life; House grunted in response as he gripped the car door tighter, another sharp pain shooting through his abdominal area. "Just let me-"Wilson said as he made his way round the chair to House's side.

"You'd end up hurting me more" House reluctantly admitted, in a moment of uncharacteristic honesty, as he cut off Wilson's attempt of assistance by shooting him a warning look; the pain, coupled with Wilson's insistent nagging, was enough to put him on edge.

"Okay, okay" Wilson sighed as he dragged the chair out from behind his friend and pushed it briskly back up to the hospital; House was right, the last thing Wilson wanted to do was to injure him further by accidentally gripping him in the wrong place and causing more damage. On the other hand, he wasn't too keen on seeing him fall flat on his face either; unfortunately, the whole debacle seemed to be based on a lose-lose situation.

'At least Cuddy's agreed to look after him for the weekend' Wilson thought idly as he dumped the wheelchair in reception; he quickened his pace as he remembered that the two of them were currently waiting in his car, together. He desperately hoped that House hadn't ruined it already by chiding his, already peeved boss (and grudging babysitter)

Luckily, what energy House may have possessed on the way _to_ the car, had now been thoroughly drained by the exhausting manoeuvre from chair to passenger seat; he was currently breathing shallowly, his head tilted back on the head rest, feeling like he was about Eighty years old.

The Oncologist started the car and began the journey back to House's apartment, all the while making a mental shopping list of things that House would need to take to Cuddy's; he knew that House wouldn't dream of doing the same thing, and waiting for his friend to 'um and ah' about what he may or may not need for the weekend was not something Wilson fancied doing at 3am.

He was almost pleased to see that both his passengers seemed to be reticent; hopefully it would remain that way, at least for tonight. If they didn't talk, House was less likely to need emergency care after being throttled by Cuddy, and Cuddy was less likely to need a lawyer for carrying out said 'throttling'.

"Wilson" Cuddy said, interrupting his silent musings, "just swing into here" she signaled to a small grocery store that was advertising the fact that it was open 24/7 with a proud, flashing neon sign. Wilson complied without complaint, saving his questioning look for when he'd safely parked in a place on the small concrete forecourt. "I may as well get some supplies from here and you can drop us both off at his" she explained quietly, "It's late...and he lives closer"

Wilson remained puzzled until he glanced across to his male passenger to find him snoring away quite peacefully, his head cradled in the nook between the seatbelt and window, and his arm draped across his stomach. Obviously he'd been telling the truth when he'd said he was tired earlier; plus, catching only a few hours kip the previous night had done nothing for his frequent insomnia.

Wilson smirked slightly as Cuddy rolled her eyes in mock exasperation at her sleeping Diagnostician before getting out of the car, doing her best to shut the door softly; House grunted as the car door slamming crashed through his dozing.

"I don't live here" he mumbled as he squinted against the harsh light beaming down on him from the neon sign.

"Oh no, you sure?" Wilson replied playfully, he loved messing with House's head, especially when he was disorientated from sleep, he blamed his cheeky inner devil.

"Where's Cuddy?" came a groggily, gasped question as House shifted in the seat in an unwise attempt at stretching his aching muscles.

"She's just getting a few supplies, then we're heading over to yours" Wilson explained, savouring the confused look House gave him before elaborating further. "She's going to brave your sofa in an attempt at making you just that _little bit_ more comfortable"

"How unreasonably nice of her" House agreed as he watched his boss paying for her supplies through the large window of the store; she looked so tired and yet she seemed to be taking the impending 'weekend from hell' completely in her stride. It was a pretty unfamiliar sensation, but House almost felt _guilty_ for dragging her into his mess; then again, he couldn't deny that he was extremely interested in what night attire Cuddy had in mind if she was staying the night too, which pushed the 'guilt' firmly to the back of his mind.

"C'mon Cuddy – we could have been home hours ago if you'd refrained from buying all those girly things" House moaned through the partially open window as his boss approached the vehicle holding a bag full of what he assumed were known as 'women's essentials'; he rolled his eyes as Wilson got out to help his boss, who was struggling with her broken wrist and a heavy bag. "Kiss ass" he muttered under his breath before shifting slightly to get comfortable; he dared not think about how the hell he was going to get a good night's sleep tonight, not with his ribs protesting with every possible sleeping position...

"I see Sleeping Beauty's awake" she sighed in response as she let Wilson close her door for her; it was pleasant to find that chivalry wasn't completely dead yet.

The recommenced their journey with little complaint from House; 'hopefully he'll sleep for most of the weekend' Wilson thought optimistically as he pulled up nearby House's apartment.

"House, we're here" he said loudly in an attempt to wake the drowsy Diagnostician; House stirred and mumbled something about needing a drink as he impatiently started dragging himself out of the car.

Wilson gave Cuddy his key and gave her a speedy run down of where to find all the relevant bedding and such; Staying at House's, on and off, meant that he probably knew more than House did about where to find his fresh laundry!

He jogged over to where House had managed to limp with the aid of his cane, and stood close by; the trick with House was to get close enough to help, but stay far enough away to look casual about it at the same time. Wilson had adhered to more than one lecture on this technique by none other than House himself, usually accompanied by a few drinks after a particularly bad day at work.

"You'll be okay, right?" Wilson asked tentatively as he led his friend up to the front door; House painfully turned to face him.

"That's your way of asking if I'm going to behave myself" he stated, catching Wilson's nod and look of impending disappointment, "I'll be on my best behaviour, I promise" he smirked, the glint in his eye giving away more than his words.

"That's what's worrying me" Wilson muttered under his breath as he gave House a wary wave and left them both to their fate.

Cuddy came through carrying a duvet and pillow; she stopped dead when she realised that Wilson seemed to have left her alone with House. "He's gone?" she asked in disbelief, watching the injured man clinging onto the back of the couch for dear life as though he was a Jackal waiting to pounce; House nodded in reply as he seemed to stare off down the hallway, counting the steps to his bedroom no doubt. "How are you going to get to bed?" she asked warily, taking in his pale complexion.

"I was thinking about teleporting myself" House replied in a semi-serious tone, "but I can't remember the exact co-ordinates...so, I think I'll walk" he finished his statement by clumsily limping down the hallway, much to Cuddy's guilty amusement.

After ten minutes, she fixed him up a glass of water to go with his newest pills and took them to his room, hesitating by his door; "House, you awake?" she asked softly as she opened his door slightly. She heard a gentle snoring coming from the dark room, which cemented her suspicion that he had, in fact, fallen asleep.

She navigated her way through his bedroom by the light of the moon, cursing as she stubbed her toe on the bedpost; 'delivering a glass of water is not worth this' she thought as she hopped over to the bedside cabinet to set down the, now half empty, glass.

"Couldn't stay away could you?" House's voice, booming through the deafeningly quiet room, made Cuddy almost jump out of her skin; she yelped, bringing a hand to her chest just as House switched the bedside lamp on, a grin forming on his lips as he took in the form of his semi-soaked boss.

"You almost gave me a heart attack" she snapped, unable to keep a matching grin off of her own face; her heart was racing and she felt like giggling uncontrollably at the absurdity of the situation.

"I almost gave _you_ a heart attack?" House asked in disbelief, "You're the one sneaking around in my room"

"I brought you water – and antibiotics" Cuddy said as she observed House's unorthodox position in the bed; he was virtually sitting up, leaning on the headboard with his legs half curled under himself and a pillow hugged closely to his abdomen. It didn't look too comfortable; but then, that would explain the open bottle of Vicodin on the dresser.

"Only way I could get comfy" he raspingly explained as he took in her bemused look. Cuddy rolled her eyes and decided that she'd better vacate his bedroom before she did something stupid – like hugging the idiot for looking so pathetically adorable. "Yell if you need anything"she said coolly before leaving, being sure to swing her hips just enough for House to take notice; he smiled, thinking about how much cooler _this_ was than having Wilson babysitting.

He coughed, trying to clear his throat, the action sending shock waves through his battered body, and making him mentally curse himself for sitting around in a wet towel earlier; 'just what I need with broken ribs – a bloody cold!' He was unaware that his 'cold' would be the least of his problems by the end of the weekend...

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Just think of this as a bonus chapter – hence the shortness and complete pointlessness to it! Just something that spewed out of my head about 20mins ago…and it probably shows! Nonetheless, enjoy…**

Cuddy stretched out, exhausted, on House's couch, keeping her injured wrist close to her body, protectively; she'd helped herself to a couple of his anti inflammatories earlier, she deserved it after all.

Despite being up all night, she was finding it extremely difficult to find sleep in such unfamiliar surroundings; it didn't help that every five seconds she could hear House burst into a fit of painful coughing. 'That's gotta hurt' she sympathised.

She was just beginning to doze when she heard the unmistakable sound of the limping man making his way across the hall, followed by the sound of the toilet seat being banged loudly against the cistern as it was lifted by a sleep-induced, clumsy hand. 'No doubt you'll be blamed for this late night toilet break' she thought, remembering the glass of water she'd dropped off earlier on.

It was coming up to almost 6am; if she didn't drift off soon, she'd find that daylight would confuse her senses and never let her get any rest. But she hadn't heard the toilet flush yet and it was bugging her; she found it extremely improbable to think that House wouldn't flush it for fear of disturbing her. If anything, he'd flush it just so the noise _would_ wake her she thought, shaking her head in wonderment.

So, she waited, almost holding her breath, for signs of him returning to bed; after about ten minutes of straining her hearing, wondering if maybe he'd already limped back without her knowledge, she decided to investigate.

She wrapped the thin sheet, that was being used to cover the couch, around her body in an attempt to cover herself up; she'd been forced to sleep in just a t shirt and her underwear because she'd felt too embarrassed about asking House for some nightwear. No doubt he'd pull out something that even Betty Boop would feel self conscious in; although why he'd have women's underwear in his apartment was beyond her.

Shivering as she made her way down the dark hallway in her bare feet, she noted that the bathroom light was still on and the door was only pushed to, not completely closed.

"House?" she said softly as she knocked on the wooden door, inadvertently pushing it far enough open to see that her 'patient' was currently perched on the rim of the bathtub. "Everything okay?" she asked warily as she took in his flushed appearance and the sheen of sweat on the back of his neck.

He jumped at the question, apparently not realising that he had company in the small room; he had been bent almost double, his arms cradling his lower rib section and his chin resting on his chest. "Couldn't sleep, stupid cough" he rasped in reply, sounding very worse for wear; she assumed, from the tears and redness in his eyes, that he'd been trying to forcibly stop himself from coughing for the past ten minutes, probably making himself feel worse.

"Okay…any reason why you're in here and not in bed?" she enquired tentatively, he certainly looked tired, even if he said he couldn't get any sleep; bed would be good - she didn't particularly want him to fall in the tub and then have to drag him out of there herself, it would be impossible.

"Needed to pee" he croaked as he pointed to the toilet; "take a look" strange request…

"Urgh!" Cuddy exclaimed as she caught sight of the red stained water; "That's a 'yes' on Renal Trauma then" she concluded, flushing the offending liquid away. "You ready to get back to bed now?" she pressed, hoping that he was fit enough to make it unaided.

House nodded in reply and used the hand basin to drag himself up, cursing as his vision blacked out for a second; he blamed the combination of dehydration and severe pain for the sudden overload.

Cuddy couldn't help herself and went into her superhero mode again, grabbing his arm with her good hand in an attempt to stabilize him; he cracked an eye open to regard her as he said "you might not want to do that – considering what happened last time"

"So go to bed – and stop putting us both at risk" she said, feeling a burning heat radiating off of his bare arm. "You're hot"

"I know" he replied with a shadow of a grin on his face as he pulled away from her and stumbled out of the bathroom.

"You remembered to take the antibiotic, didn't you?" she asked, following him closely; the last thing he needed was an infection from possible internal issues.

House rolled his eyes as he gingerly settled himself back on the bed, picking up the packet of hospital prescribed antibiotics; he made a show of pulling the inner packet out to show his boss that he'd taken his dose, just like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

"Sore throat, hacking cough and fever-" Cuddy began.

"All brought on by sitting around in just a towel and t shirt; I don't even need to be a doctor to tell you that I've got _a cold_" House interjected miserably as he limped painfully over to the window and threw it open; he pulled a face at the birds that were daring to sing just outside, didn't they know he was ill?

"House! Close the window – its freezing! Do you want to die of hypothermia?" Cuddy whined in disbelief as she watched him pitifully pull the covers off the bed, choosing to sleep on top of the sheet without them. She could distinctly see the outline of sweat on his t shirt starting to spread further down his back as he painfully climbed into bed, the bathroom exertion clearly taking more out of him than he'd readily admit.

"Cuddy, get out" came the late, weak reply as he did his best to get back to that comfortable half-sitting, half-laying position he'd found earlier; talking was too much of an effort, so trying to explain that he felt like he was being internally roasted definitely wasn't on the agenda. Sleep was.

Cuddy backed out of the door, not wanting to annoy her surprisingly lucid patient; 'I'll sneak back in when he's asleep – make sure he doesn't catch pneumonia' she decided as she settled herself back on the couch.

'He's been very well behaved so far; no need to intentionally provoke aggravation by 'mothering' him…or treating him like an idiot.' her mind wandered as she listened through the gentle sounds of birds and early morning traffic, for the sound of snoring; it didn't take long before she drifted off herself, forgetting the plan she'd made to ensure House didn't catch pneumonia…or worse.


	11. Chapter 11

Cuddy awoke with a start to the sound of a startling bang emanating from House's bedroom; "Oh crap!" she exclaimed as she looked at her watch, discovering that it had been 5 hours since she'd last checked on him.

She threw the blanket off of her body and made her way quickly down the hall. 'What if he's fallen out of bed?' she thought hurriedly as she swung round the doorframe to his bedroom, only to come into direct contact with the sleepy man.

"Oomph!" House grunted, stumbling as Cuddy ran straight into him, forcing him to grab hold of her shoulder in an attempt to stay upright. "What's the rush?" he groaned as he tripped clumsily over to the bed to sit down; he decided that it had been a bad idea thinking he'd make it to the bathroom without his cane, as his leg protested at all this unwanted movement.

"I heard a bang – I thought something had happened" Cuddy explained breathlessly as she visually checked him over; he still looked and sounded like crap – but at some point while she was sleeping, he'd managed to change into a fresh pair of sweats and a dry t shirt. 'Maybe he's not as idiotic as you thought he was' she noted.

"I just shut my window – bloody freezing in here" he moaned groggily, cradling his abdomen; Cuddy had slammed into the wrong place, exactly where he was most tender. "and I was trying to get to the bathroom before you brutally assaulted me" he added, taking the time to really saviour the fact that Cuddy was standing before him wearing just a t shirt and panties, better still – she didn't seem to notice because she seemed to be more interested in checking him out.

"Ever considered modelling for Victoria's Secret?" he growled seductively, although he wasn't feeling particularly amorous right at that moment in time due to his sore ribs, sore throat, sore leg...sore everything!

"House!" she scolded as she self-consciously grabbed the nearest object to cover herself up. Unfortunately, the closest object happened to be the jeans that he'd haphazardly thrown on the floor whilst he was desperately trying to get his body temperature to stop torturing him. Nonetheless, she held them over her lower body with her good hand and frowned when he seemed to pout at this.

"Yeah, that's definitely less sexy" he announced huskily, pulling himself gingerly off the bed and motioning for her to pass him his cane. She leant over and scooped it off the floor, turning around in time to catch him practically leering over her butt.

"Don't think for one second that I won't punish you in the worst way imaginable if you dare tell _anyone_ about this" Cuddy warned as she stood dangerously close to him. House fought the urge to smirk, knowing that he was probably only seconds away from getting slapped. How was he supposed to _not_ look at her when she was walking around in next to nothing and bending over in front of him?

Suddenly, their attention was grabbed by the front door, which had just slammed shut. The urge to smirk had now turned into the need to smile evilly as House heard the unmistakable sound of Wilson jangling his keys and clearing his throat, probably wondering where they both were.

"Is that Wilson?" Cuddy hissed as she attempted to hide behind the bedroom door; House nodded in reply, still grinning, and made to walk out of the room. Cuddy grabbed his arm "he can't see me like this – not in your room" she whispered anxiously, much to House's amusement. Was the possibility of people thinking they were together really _that_ bad?

He decided to do her a favour and take care of Wilson himself. He limped out of the room, pointing to the bathroom door on the way down the corridor. Cuddy pressed her head against the doorframe, dreading what lies she might hear House bragging about to his best friend. She seen him point to the bathroom door, 'I can't just wander over there – he'll see me you idiot' she thought angrily.

"Where's Cuddy?" she heard Wilson ask, obviously seeing the blanket sprawled on the floor and wondering where the hell she was hiding.

"Bathroom, showering or something – make me some coffee" House replied gruffly as he led the Oncologist through to the kitchen.

This allowed Cuddy the chance she needed to dart from the bedroom to the bathroom, her heart still racing from the fear of getting caught in House's room wearing just a skimpy t shirt and underwear.

She ran a bath, figuring that she may as well take stay in here to avoid having to explain to Wilson why House was getting sicker instead of recovering. Technically, it wasn't her fault at all; but blaming the cripple with broken ribs for getting ill just seemed…mean.

Lowering herself into the tub, without getting her cast wet, she cursed House for appearing not to have any nice soaps or bathing salts. 'Typical man' she thought irritably whilst attempting to keep her hair from getting wet; it was almost a certainty that he didn't own a hairdryer.

House sunk onto one of the kitchen chairs while Wilson made his coffee; it hadn't gotten by his friend that House looked considerably worse than he had in the hospital last night and he seemed to be suffering from a nasty sounding cold. He would have preferred to grill Cuddy about his state of health, but since she wasn't around…"You look terrible" he observed.

"Probably because I feel like crap" House stated bluntly as he rummaged through the bag that Cuddy had brought in last night, trying to find anything that resembled food. "Ha, knew she cared" he said triumphantly as he pulled out several glossy celebrity magazines.

"Err, I think they're probably for herself" Wilson decided, not being able to grasp why any man would want to read that trash.

"Pfft, Cuddy doesn't read this crap" House mumbled as he became engrossed in who was 'hot' and who was 'not' in the land of TV soaps this month.

"So what's up?" Wilson asked as he searched around for a clean teaspoon.

"That weird girl from General hospital apparently…" House replied distractedly as he brought the magazine closer to analyse the pictures.

"No, what's up _with you_?" It would be easier getting blood from a stone.

"Broken ribs, coupled with a cold…not a great combination" House admitted without taking his eyes off the page.

"Symptoms?"

"You're questioning my diagnosis of _a cold_?" House asked disbelievingly as he looked up from the magazine, "cool"

"I was just wondering-"

"-Being the concerned friend" House mocked before throwing the magazine down; "fever, cough, headache and one hell of a sore throat – as if you couldn't have guessed"

"See, that wasn't so hard" Wilson said, passing the mug of coffee across the table as though it were a reward and ignoring the coughing fit that he assumed was being put on for his entertainment. He waited for House to start drinking his coffee before he asked "Have you been taking you antibiotic?"

House put the mug down and threw his hands up in the air, "why is everyone treating my like I'm an idiot?" he sighed, "believe it or not – I am capable of taking my own medication without constant reminding!" Wilson deduced that maybe it wasn't the first time he'd been asked that question, judging by the over-the-top, exasperated reaction.

"Think maybe we should add 'irritability' to your list of symptoms?" came the next cheeky question.

"Maybe you can add it after I shove my cane up your-"

"I better get back to work" Wilson announced, wisely cutting House off before he could get too graphic. "I'll come by tomorrow – see how you're doing then."

"If you must" House mumbled, "but bring food" he added as an afterthought.

Once Wilson had left, House dragged himself back to his bedroom; stopping by at the bathroom door to see if he could annoy his boss some more. He could hear her splashing around inside, obviously making the most of his hot water.

"You can come out now, he's gone" he grinned wickedly as he realised something - "Did you take a towel in there with you?" he asked, the little devil sitting on his shoulder already knowing the answer.

Cuddy froze, not only had she had to take the worst bath in history due to the fact that House didn't seem to own _any_ bathing products, but now he was telling her that there wasn't even a towel in here. "Why wouldn't you have a towel in your bathroom?" she whined accusingly, if she didn't know better, she'd swear he'd planned this all along.

"Relax, I'll get you one" he chuckled as he limped into his bedroom, to the closet. Being happy didn't seem to agree with his cold though, and chuckling brought on another bout of uncontrollable coughing. He'd never felt pain like it before; this was ten times worse than earlier.

Every time his abdominal muscles contracted with another cough, he felt like he was being brutally impaled on a rather large skewer.

"Shit" he wheezed as he was forced to grab hold of the edge of his bed in a blind panic when he felt his legs giving way; he groaned as he felt himself slipping, he didn't even have a chance to call out to Cuddy before he passed out from the pain and collapsed in a heap on his bedroom floor...

**Author's Note: See, when you're prescribed 'bed rest and antibiotics', make sure you take _bed rest_ and antibiotics – don't overexert yourself by wandering around your apartment and laughing at other people's misfortune 'cos karma will get ya! I feel so mean now; I've left House collapsed on the floor of his bedroom, and I've left poor Cuddy in his bathtub waiting for him to bring her a towel…I'd better update soon hadn't I? x**


	12. Chapter 12

"Ohhh" House groaned miserably as a dull pain throbbed in his leg, ribs and shoulder…shoulder? "Shit…" he mumbled as he recalled where he was and how he got there; he pried open his eyes to find himself face to face with a pair of dainty, bare feet.

He looked up to find Cuddy crouching beside him, a look of disbelief on her face and two vicodin in her hand, she really knew how to comfort a man in pain; "I don't even want to know how it happened" she stated quickly as she did her best to keep her body covered possibly due the fact she was wearing a t shirt that looked suspiciously like one of his own. "Can you make it into bed?"

"Worried about Wilson coming back and finding me sprawled out on the floor?" he growled innocently as he swallowed the Vicodin hungrily, "or worried about him coming back and finding you looking like you're about to enter Princeton's Annual wet t shirt competition?"

"I'll take that as a 'yes I'm fine' answer" Cuddy scowled at his smirking face and made to leave the room; if he couldn't ask for help, he wouldn't get help – he could stay on the floor!

"I always knew you wanted to get into my pants" came a cheeky jibe from the man on the floor behind her, turning her scowl in to a devilish grin as she hitched his jeans up a little higher with her good hand.

"_Somebody_ left me stranded with nothing to dry myself with in the bathroom, and I wasn't about to make _my_ clothes soaking wet" she replied seductively.

"_Please_ tell me you're wearing my boxers under there" he leered as best he could from his position on his aching side.

"That would be telling" she announced playfully as she walked to the door, smiling as she caught his look of pure glee. 'Only you would find this exciting' she thought, amusedly.

"You realise I'll have to build a shrine for them now" he called as she disappeared into the hallway, apparently chuckling to herself.

House allowed himself a minute to muster up the courage to drag himself off the cold floor; 'this is gonna hurt…' he thought as he scanned the room for his cane. He was right, it hurt, and it killed his jovial mood.

By the time he'd managed to drag his pathetic self onto the edge of the bed, he'd abandoned the cane and any thought of staying in his bed for the next few hours. Wherever he settled, he'd be there for a long, long time and he wanted some entertainment; exhaustion from simply moving had ensured that he was in no mood to argue as Cuddy returned, now in her own clothes. 'Damn'

"Whoa, where are you going mister?" she asked lightly, inwardly panicking as he used the walls and furniture to hold himself up whilst trying to barge, unsteadily past her to the front room.

"Couch" he grunted as he successfully made it into the hall without falling arse over tit, impressing not only Cuddy, but himself too. "Bring my pillow" he called back.

Cuddy sighed, grabbing a pillow and carrying it down the hall for him; she contained a gasp as she watched the injured man falter as he limped over to his couch, almost falling flat on his face. "House, you really need to rest" she said, ignoring the look he shot back at her.

"I _would_ be asleep if it wasn't for you and Wilson treating me like I'm an idiot" he declared moodily as he desperately attempted to sit on the couch without jostling his ribs.

It was true; he'd probably be tucked up in bed if Wilson had trusted him enough not to check up on him on his lunch break and if Cuddy hadn't insisted on running into him while he was on his way for a toilet break. This reminded him, "Oh crap!"

"What?" she asked warily.

"Need to pee…"

"House!" she sighed exasperatedly; "you were just there" she pointed down the hall in annoyance. "Can't you hold it in?"

"I have been holding it in…look, there's a pan under the sink-" he started, desperation overcoming any sense of humiliation he might have previously had about peeing in front of his boss.

"No" this was one thing she did not want to be in charge of – urine disposal.

"Cuddy! This is a life or death situation – it _is_ a bed pan!" he begged, to no avail.

"No"

"Wilson would let me" he pouted miserably, the thought of having to do his cripple-trapeze act again was enough to ruin his already shitty mood.

"Well, I'm not Wilson"

House scoffed, "if you were, you'd be pregnant by now…" he groaned in annoyance as he stood back up painfully; he considered faking Cuddy out by pretending to trip, but in all honesty, he wasn't sure he'd be able to catch himself in time. 'Best not then…'

"Don't you need your cane?"

"Jolted my shoulder when I fell - can't use it..." he grumbled in explanation as he began his unwelcome journey back to the bathroom. 'This is punishment' he thought angrily, 'for all the clinic patients I've ever mocked.'

"Yell if you need me" Cuddy called after him, using every inch of her self control not to follow him like a worried mother.

"Oh I need you" he laughed bitterly, holding onto the wall for support; for some insane reason the bathroom door looked at least twenty metres further away from his couch than it should be.

As soon as he reached the end of his agonising expedition, he simply dropped his pants and dropped himself onto the toilet seat; there was no way he could stand and pee right now.

He did the business and pulled himself up; cursing once again as he saw the end result of his injuries. 'Blood, blood and more blood…much more than before' he noted, unfazed for the time being, as he washed his hands.

"Everything alright in there?" he heard Cuddy calling through the door, he rolled his eyes as she knocked on the door expectantly.

He sharply pulled open the door, causing his boss to almost fall into the bathroom with him. "Finished" he declared with fake relief plastered on his face, as well as a cheeky smirk.

"You didn't flush" she announced with disgust.

"Figured you'd like to indulge in your urine fantasy and check it out again" he said, his empty bladder apparently bettering his foul mood – weirdly, "so, go nuts!"

"Thanks for that" she deadpanned as she leant over the toilet to humour him. "Oh…" was all she could say when she saw the amount of red, watered-down blood in the bottom of the ceramic toilet. "But-" she turned to find that he was already halfway back to the couch.

She caught him up easily and tried to decide on the best way to interrogate him on how he was feeling; he probably wouldn't tell her whatever way she approached the conversation.

"That's a lot more than there was this morning" she began, trying to judge his reaction to her prying from the blank expression on his face. She didn't wait for any kind of explanation as she retrieved a cold pack from the kitchen, luckily she'd came prepared last night.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she handed over the cold pack, momentarily surprising her 'patient' who hadn't counted on her actually performing any 'doctoral duties' over the weekend.

"Hungry" he stated as he took the pack and sat back down on the couch, searching for the television remote, trying to ignore her penetrating gaze.

"Hungry isn't really an emotion" she stated eventually as she held the remote up, smiling as he rolled his eyes. "Are you in more pain?"

"Yes" he said, offering no more details but expecting her to hand over the remote.

"You'll have to elaborate."

He sighed and took as deep a breath as he dared without crying out pathetically in pain. "My ribs are broken, causing all kinds of damage to my right kidney, which is actually a lot more painful than it sounds; I've somehow managed to contract the worst common cold known to man, most probably from some snivelling granny in the clinic, which means that my head hurts, my throat kills, my body temperature doesn't know if it wants to boil me from the inside or freeze me from the outside, I've got a cough that tries to dislodge my ribcage every five minutes, probably worsening the whole damaged kidney problem tenfold; plus, my leg really, really, _really_ hurts, but then you know all about that…" he whined pitifully, "_and _I've got this babysitter who keeps trying to kill me; first she assaults me in the bedroom, she steals my clothes, she forces me to overexert myself continuously by walking miles around my apartment to save her sorry, bountiful ass from embarrassment, and what's worse, is that she's starving me and _boring me to death_ with pointless conversations about whether or not I'm in pain…"

"You finished?" she asked, clearly bemused by his rant.

"Give me a second; I'm _sure_ I can think of more…" House smirked as the remote travelled towards his crotch area with alarming force, luckily he managed to sick his hand out and stop it in its path. "Did I happen to mention assault?"

"What do you want to eat?" Cuddy wisely ignored his moaning. "Or should I actually go and see what you've got, then ask you what you want…" she added, remembering that this was the man who thought a Reuben-a-day with fries was part of a well balanced diet.

"You brought bagels yesterday" he announced knowingly as he gingerly placed the cold pack on his tender ribs, wincing as the coldness made his muscles tense up automatically.

"You looked in _my_ bag?" she wasn't sure if that was supposed to shock her or not. It didn't for one second.

"You left it in _my_ kitchen" he replied, pulling a childish face as if to reinforce his point.

"I'll have four please – cream cheese and everything" he said, hoping that Cuddy would give up already and go make him some food.

It must have worked because Cuddy gave up the fight and went off to slave over his lunch. 'House, 1: Evil Cuddy, 0' he thought triumphantly, dropping the cold pack to replace it with his pillow which he held tightly against his ribs, in an attempt at stopping them from trying to escape from his body, as he coughed for an agonizingly long time. 'House, 0: Crappy Common Cold, 50…'

On her return from the kitchen, House eagerly scoffed down two generously filled bagels before giving up on the third, much to Cuddy's aggravation. "So, you _made_ me make four, filled bagels, and now you only eat two?" she asked crossly. "Do you realise how hard that was with a broken wrist?"

House didn't answer, instead he chose to frown to himself and grab the cold pack once more, pressing it further down towards his abdomen; this definitely concerned his 'babysitter' who was becoming increasingly worried about him and his mood swings. "You okay?"

He snapped his eyes up and gave her an unconvincing nod, "I'm fine…" he lied…


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: A nice, long and, hopefully, not boring update for you…R&R and maybe I'll consider cutting poor old House some slack soon. (I said maybe!) x**

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After 2 hours of watching mind-numbingly boring afternoon B movies on TV, sitting in complete silence, Cuddy was bursting to interrogate her patient. She initially busied herself by getting together his next round of antibiotics; her logic being that if she kept pumping them into him, he was bound to get better soon.

'Right now, he looks like death warmed up' she thought as he took the meds from her hand and swallowed them without complaint. She took away the old ice pack which had long since melted and was serving no other purpose than making the waistband of his sweats soaking wet where he'd tucked it in after getting tired of holding it on his ribs for so long.

He took the new one and held it against his side once again – even he couldn't deny the fact that the coolness was easing the throbbing to some extent; although, his shoulder was driving him mad with the injury he'd sustained by dropping onto it like a lead weight in the bedroom earlier. 'Damn Cuddy and her stupid towel…'

She sat back down on his recliner and continued to observe him worriedly; every time he coughed or dared to take a deep breath, he winced and she clenched up, anxiously – it was truly grating on his nerves.

"Sit here" he ordered eventually, without even sparing her a glance, as she hissed sympathetically during another one of his spectacular coughing fits.

"Why?"

"Because I'm fed up with you sitting there staring at me as though I'm going to disintegrate any second now" he offered as explanation, "If you sit here, you can face the TV...and ignore me"

"Oh" Cuddy accepted this as a reasonable request and planted herself to the right of him on the couch; although, she was now even more aware of his apparent fever as she felt the heat radiating off of him. "You're still running a fever" she stated pointlessly, annoying him further.

"Shhh!" he exclaimed angrily, "how am I supposed to watch TV when you're arguing with me every two seconds about whether or not I'm still sick?"

Cuddy took this as a rhetorical question and wisely kept quiet as he carried on his built-up rant. "I _know_ I'm sick, which is why I'm _trying_ to rest – no thanks to you and Wilson sticking your noses in every five minutes!" he paused as he took the time to actually study his boss. She looked...defeated. 'Shit'

"I also know that this is _all _my fault – and I've got no one to blame but myself...and maybe Jack Daniels..." he muttered, but to no reply from his boss. "Oh God – you're not gonna cry, are you?" now he felt really bad. Or at least he did right up until Cuddy turned and smirked at him.

"House, we're not in High school; I can handle you telling me to 'butt out' without feeling the need to burst into tears and slash the tires on your car!" she laughed; openly amused by his strange concerned streak.

"Thank God – I must have mistaken you for Cameron" he said, finding the relief at knowing he hadn't upset her, slightly disconcerting...maybe she really was immune to his jibes.

He rested his head back on the couch and placed the new bag of ice against his brow in an attempt at quelling the fire in his head; the ice didn't put up much of a fight, and droplets of water began to form and run down his face. It felt pretty damn good to him; it looked pretty damn pathetic to her...in an almost cute sort of way.

"I'd better write this down" she muttered as she retreated back into the kitchen; House frowned, took the pack off of his forehead and followed her with his gaze.

She returned with a little bound black book. "Well, well, well – I hadn't put you down as a black book kinda girl, Cuddy" he grinned lazily, "Got an important appointment set for tonight?" he tried to lean over to see what she was attempting to write – it was actually quite boring. "Antibiotic 3pm"

Cuddy's handwriting, on the other hand, was very interesting; it was as though two spiders had run through an ink blotter and then proceeded to skate over the pages – completely incomprehensible!

"What? I'm not ambidextrous, okay?" she whined as she caught onto him smirking beside her. House simply stuck his hand out, waiting for her to surrender the book to him.

"You want to be my secretary now?" she asked perplexedly, pretending to ignore his outstretched arm; broken wrist or not, House didn't just offer to help unless there was something in it for him.

"Oh yes…" he growled seductively before being reduced to some painful coughing. He groaned and put on his best pleading face to entice his boss to hand over the loot; which she did with a large measure of unwillingness.

The little black book turned out to be nothing more than an hour by hour account of his med intake and frequent bouts of unconsciousness over the past couple of days.

"Hey…" he announced playfully, "someone's been spying on me"

"I think 'medical research' is a better term" Cuddy stated as she attempted to grab the book back; House had a very dangerous weapon in that and the pen he was also brandishing.

"Hiding behind potted plants in the clinic, concealing listening devices in my office – you weren't in disguise as that intern yesterday who wanted me to check out the rash on his-"

"No!" she cried, "I haven't been spying on you – no one has."

"I'm sure Cameron has…but that's something completely unrelated" he snorted, apparently amused at the thought.

"I don't think she'll be spying on you much longer – especially after you traumatised her in the clinic."

"I think 'aroused' is a more accurate term to describe what my fluffiest of subordinates was feeling in the clinic yesterday" House said, whilst busily writing in her little black book, "definitely not traumatised..."

"What are you doing?" she questioned, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of what libel he was committing her to. He didn't break in his writing but he placed his free hand over where he had written in a childish attempt at keeping her from reading it.

After a few more sentences, he surrendered the book into his boss' wary hands. She read the first line, and already had a complaint. "_Dear Diary_ – House! Someone could read this!" she fumed.

"If you're getting upset about 'Dear Diary' – I suggest you read no further…" House winced in anticipation as she carried on regardless of his warning.

Cuddy skimmed through the rest, trying to ignore the various stick figures that were drawn in the margin – one particular stick woman was very well endowed in the cleavage area Cuddy noted, trying not to laugh.

She started again. "Dear Diary, my sadistic nature surpassed even my own expectations today, as I successfully managed to K.O my patient 3 minutes after he'd gotten out of bed'…House – that was an accident" she moaned half-heartedly.

She continued. "I did have some good points during the day, one particular high was when I managed to indulge in my cross dressing fantasy – although this was cut short by the patient regaining consciousness and putting a stop to that game…" Cuddy shot him a menacing look. "To top off an already unbelievable day, I managed to fit in yet another glimpse of the patient's urine – bonus!" she groaned as she read the conclusion – "I can only pray that tomorrow brings as much excitement."

"You haven't read the last bit" House reminded her.

"The bit that's in a speech bubble coming out of the stick man with the cane's mouth…" Cuddy confirmed warily.

"Yep" House grinned, more than happy with his handiwork; he fancied himself as quite the 'stick man artist'

"Err, 'Antibiotic 2 per 4 hour interval…Vicodin 2 per 4 hour interval…Score so far – Cuddy 1, House 3' three?" she frowned, "What's my one point for?"

"The _accidentally_ making me collapse in complete agony this morning…"

"…and your points?"

"For getting you semi naked _and_ into my pants all in the space of an hour…"

"You can't get three points for that" Cuddy pouted, completely oblivious to the fact that she knew nothing of how House's scoring system actually worked.

"You don't know what the other points are for yet…" he mumbled mysteriously after hacking out a few rib achingly excruciating coughs.

"You're hardly in any shape to be earning points" she chastised, watching his face go from a deep red blush, back to pale with a hint of fever on his cheeks. "Want some water?" she asked, which was quickly translated into 'are you okay?' by the guarded diagnostician.

"I'm fine – just watch TV now, would you?" he mumbled sleepily, "done my sociable bit for the evening; I've moved onto my anti-social bit…" he focussed on the television, his eyes drooping as the realisation that he was pretty exhausted hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Yeah – it was hard to distinguish between the two" Cuddy smirked as she pulled the blanket off of the floor and over herself. There was no point in even asking her patient if he wanted a share of the cover, he was already asleep. After an hour of watching TV, Cuddy was too.

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Cuddy awoke suddenly to the sound of her patient coughing roughly, she kept her eyes closed and savoured the moment between waking up and drifting back off to sleep.

After about ten minutes of snoozing gently, she opened her eyes; it was getting dark outside – the clock on the mantle piece clearly showed that it was coming up to 7pm.

She glanced across to the other occupant of the couch to find him back in a subterranean slumber.

Stretching out, she was alarmed to find that her cast had been attacked by a graffiti artist at some point during her four hour nap – she sighed as she saw his weapon of choice, her ballpoint pen. Several games of 'Tic - Tac - Toe' had been undertaken, as well as many more stick men and a bold statement of 'Property of G House'

"I suppose I can only blame myself for falling asleep in your company" she directed to the still figure beside her. Surprisingly, he didn't stir at all. Not even when she slapped him on the arm.

"House?" she said loudly, allowing a worried frown to envelope her features. She jumped up to face her, now apparently comatose, patent; she gently slapped his face in an attempt at getting any response. It worked.

She was rewarded with a groan as he seemed to snap out of his deep sleep; he opened his eyes, blinked a few times, then settled for glaring at her through heavy lidded eyes.

"What?" he croaked perplexed by her anxious look, but still not fully awake yet; he could just about feel the intense pain flooding back to him, his other unsolicited companion for the weekend.

He found it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open with all the staring they seemed to be doing at each other at that particular moment; he let his head drop forward as he waited for her to continue.

Everything seemed to be a little blurry and distorted from his point of view; Cuddy watched as he swallowed, wincing as the burning in his throat magnified tenfold.

"I'm taking you back in" she stated as she reached over and put a hand to his head, feeling the uncomfortable heat radiating off him; something wasn't right, and she didn't need the extra hassle of an _even sicker_ House to deal with.

House attempted to straighten up a little on the couch, trying to muster up enough energy to argue. He was alarmed to find that he couldn't even get the strength to sit up without support. 'This cannot be good' he thought as he gingerly threw the melted ice pack onto the floor in front of him, wincing as he found any movement was killing his back… 'Oh fuck – don't panic…oh shit!'

"You're not arguing" Cuddy noticed, which for some unknown reason, House felt the insane need to shake his head in confirmation of this – so he did, making himself look even more vacant.

"I think it's ruptured" he gasped in explanation as he made the mistake of pressing his fingers against where his right kidney was currently mutinying.

"What? Just like that?" there was no denying it from her incensed tone and angry expression; this was going to be _his_ fault, no matter what he said to defend himself.

"It's been steadily getting worse since you ran into me this morning…I think the last fit of coughing did something – dislodged the ribs further…" there was more, Cuddy could see it coming. "I can't stand" and that wasn't even the half of it.

"You can't move, can you?" House gave her his version of a withering look in reply. "Are you having trouble breathing?"

"Yes" he sounded irritated now, not worried in the least.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Err, probably because I was on the verge of unconsciousness, or because it only just happened - pick one!" he snapped back; 'How the hell did you let it get this bad' he chided himself silently.

"Should I call Wilson?"

House seemed to think about this for a while; weighing up the pros and cons of calling his best friend apparently taking a lot of effort. "Yeah…but call the ambulance first"

"Sure" Cuddy managed to keep her cool all the way up the point where she entered the kitchen to retrieve the phone; she took a few deep breaths before she dialled the hospital switchboard, her heart racing like a freight train.

After organising the ambulance she dialled through to Wilson's office, hoping that he hadn't left for the day yet…he hadn't.

"Wilson – it's Cuddy"

"What's up?" he sounded apprehensive, probably imagining that she was ringing to let him know that she was quitting her babysitting stint.

"He thinks he's ruptured his right kidney" she said quickly, not even needing to explain who 'he' was.

"Are you coming in?" now Wilson sounded worried. "Do you need me to come and get you?"

"No – he's asked for an ambulance" Cuddy replied, hearing her words for the first time. '_He asked_ for an ambulance…that's got to be bad'

"So, what do you need me to do?" Wilson wasn't sure that he knew the course of action he was supposed to follow from here. Neither did Cuddy.

"I – uh…I'll see what he wants you to do" she said as she gathered up her bag on the crook of her elbow and returned to her patient. "House, do you want Wilson here?" she asked the unresponsive man on the couch.

He tried to reply but found the words wouldn't make it past his dry throat; he shook his head weakly as he put all of his concentration into breathing – although the prospect of being unconscious when the EMT's arrived was not without its appeal.

The last thing he wanted was to be put through the agony of a transfer with his boss looking on and moaning at him for being a stubborn idiot for about the eighth time that weekend…

**TBC…**


	14. Chapter 14

"You're not an idiot" House stated weakly as he tore out a shakily written note from Cuddy's book. It was an unexpected statement – but not an unwelcome one in her opinion, even if it was completely out of the blue.

"Okay" she replied uneasily, taking the scrap of paper from his hand, "that's probably the nicest thing you've _ever_ said to me" she teased lightly, trying to quench the feeling of impending doom that was floating around in her stomach.

House attempted to shake his head in mock annoyance, but failed miserably as nausea forced him to squeeze his eyes shut before he started retching. Not something he wanted to do in a hurry with his kidney already on the brink of homicide.

He recovered after a few tense seconds of swallowing back the pain; Cuddy kept her mouth shut during the period, silently cursing the ambulance for taking so long.

"You're not an idiot, but…but I need you to do everything on here" he waved vaguely towards the torn out page, drawing Cuddy's attention back to it.

"Err, okay" she looked from him to the page and frowned, "You're not planning on going anywhere are you?" she asked warily, skimming over the top few lines.

"Probably won't be around when the ambulance gets here" he admitted, grimacing slightly at the thought of the EMT's transferring him into it. "Just read it…"

"_Possibility of rising Potassium_…well, you're the nephrologist…" she muttered, reading through his hastily scrawled note; she then spared him a quick look, not liking what she saw at all.

"House, just take a few deep breaths, okay?" she said calmly, he mumbled something incoherent in reply which wasn't a good enough answer. "Look, I need you to stay with me" she admitted, giving the pretence that she was on the verge of getting angry with him, "don't you dare pass out" she pointed a finger at him menacingly.

He mumbled "Jesus, Cuddy" or something that sounded remarkably similar before painfully taking in enough air to clear his vision. "I just need…" he almost pleaded with her to let him give in to the pain and just drift into unconsciousness, but his pride got in the way, so he trailed off reluctantly and concentrated on regulating his breathing.

"Just stay awake – it's easier to monitor your condition if you're arguing with me" she ordered calmly as she quickly grabbed another bag of ice from the kitchen and pressed it against his sweltering forehead, hoping that it might awaken his senses and keep him from passing out.

She dreaded to think what his temperature was now that he was in even more agony; the ice touching his skin sent a blast through his body and woke him up a little, but also caused him to flinch involuntarily and wince at the action.

"Hold this" Cuddy said, ignoring the wince, as she gave him the second bag to hold against his side; he took it readily enough, but couldn't muster up enough energy to twist, so Cuddy was forced to abandon it because she needed to take his pulse – which she soon found was racing manically.

"Pulse is a little elevated" she lied, smiling at his lazily grunted response and added eye roll; if he could find the energy to talk, no doubt his response would have been something along the lines of 'I know what my pulse is; it's currently deafening me by thudding loudly in my ears – it's so not just _a little elevated_' but it was too much effort for him to try and politely converse right now.

It seemed like everything in his world was melting rapidly, she was the only thing keeping him grounded; her icy cool demeanour was _actually_ helping him for a change. He briefly considered cutting her some slack over his clinic duty when he got better…although, he primarily put it down to the fever and so decided against it almost immediately.

"House" she snapped him out of his daze and locked onto his blue eyes; "they're here – you ready?"

"No" he croaked, regardless of the fact that it was a rhetorical question and Cuddy had already left him, with both the ice packs now on his lap, to answer the door.

"He's suffering from broken ribs which have ruptured his right kidney and he's also gone into shock – we need to transfer him as quickly and painlessly as possible" Cuddy stated as she led the EMT's through to the patient who grunted in amusement at Cuddy's hopeful optimism. '_Painlessly_ – yeah, as if!'

"Okay" EMT number one said, "we're gonna lift you and slide you onto the gurney, we don't really want to lay you down if there's a possibility of more damage…so Colin here will keep hold of you as we lead you out to the ambulance" he paused considerately, giving the patient a chance to take the plan in.

The second EMT, Colin, sat next to House on the couch and draped his left arm over his shoulder; the first took hold of his waist, being especially careful of his right hand side.

House gasped as he was pulled onto his feet and deftly slid over onto the gurney; whoever taught these guys to manoeuvre patients was a genius. The key seemed to be speed; get the patient into the ambulance fast enough and they didn't have time to complain at all!

He was vaguely aware of 'Colin' holding him upright; he was pretty content at staying limp and letting his head rest against Colin's shoulder. In fact, he'd be even more comfortable if they'd stop moving him altogether and just let him rest; all this sitting around was making him very, very tired…disconcertingly so.

Cuddy grabbed some essentials, locked the front door and followed the EMT's to the ambulance, ignoring the twitching curtains from House's nosey neighbours. By the time she'd gotten in the ambulance, the EMT's were hooking House up to O2 and an I.V in an attempt at getting his low BP stabilised.

House was still leaning on the EMT; his weight was so unevenly distributed, Cuddy thought that if Colin were to move, House would simply topple off of the gurney completely. Luckily, Colin was taking this all in his stride and seemed to be more than proficient at inserting IV's with one hand.

"We've got about six minutes on the road" Colin said soothingly to House as he adjusted the O2 mask and gave a quick thumbs-up to the second EMT in the driver's seat – their own devised signal for 'lets go'

For once, Cuddy was disappointed not to see any sign of an eye roll or swift jibe from her diagnostician; what she wouldn't give for a sarcastic comment right now…

She positioned herself in the spare seat and belted up, savouring the fact that she was no longer in charge; she still didn't dare take her eyes off of her patient.

'It's not like the weekend could have gotten any worse with you babysitting – you only _nearly killed_ the guy' she thought miserably as the ambulance raced onto the main road.

"Stay awake" she ordered sharply as House's eyes began to droop; he responded by giving her a small smirk, which she just about caught under the O2 mask. Needless to say, it made her a little happier to see that he wasn't completely out of it yet.

"We've got a team waiting in Radiology, so when we get there take him-" Cuddy was cut off with a yelp as the ambulance hit a pothole, throwing Colin over onto his helpless patient.

There was an almighty screech as the driver attempted to keep the van on the road; a burst front tyre was hindering his vain attempt at staying put though and the ambulance eventually crashed down the side of a steep bank…

**Author's Note: Sorry, had to throw that little cliffy in, I was getting bored of carting House to and from hospital without any real action…just relax in the knowledge that I'm currently writing the next chapter ****right now**** – so there won't be a long wait for it! Enjoy! **


	15. Chapter 15

House groaned as he pushed the unconscious form of Colin from his lap, letting his body drop without a thought for the other man's wellbeing as he hit the deck. He looked up to see Cuddy frowning angrily at him, no doubt ready to scold him for his actions as he shakily pulled off the O2 mask.

"Are you okay?" he completely threw her by asking her the inevitable question first, which was all part of his plan. "What the hell happened?" he added after a few minutes of stunned silence save for the crackling of the ambulance's wrecked body work.

"What, did you miss out on the part where we just crashed?" Cuddy snapped in reply as she unbelted and made her way through the spilled medical paraphernalia to get to his side. "Put that back on" she ordered as she pushed the mask back over his face.

"What's the driver looking like?" he mumbled through the mask, pulling it off to repeat the question when it became clear Cuddy either couldn't hear him, or was choosing to ignore him.

"I'm going to take a look – just stay there, don't move" Cuddy said as she stumbled over to the cab. The driver was unconscious, and judging by the amount of blood on the side window, he'd stay that way for a while.

She squeezed through the small gap into the front and cursed as she saw where they'd landed. They seemed to be precariously close to a river, and it only took a small jolt from the occupants of the van to send it sliding closer.

"House…when I said 'stay put' about three seconds ago – I may have meant to say 'get the hell out of here right now', okay?" Cuddy said cautiously as she hastily made an attempt at getting the driver's seatbelt off. She grabbed a small piece of cloth to press against his head and did a quick assessment to see if he had any other injuries; it wasn't long before she heard a commotion from the rear of the vehicle as someone tripped on the spilled contents of the van.

"Shit!" came the loud curse from behind her as House braced himself using the driver's head rest; the small hop from the gurney to the front of the van seemed to take the remainder of the ambulance's stability and it rocked slightly, sliding even closer to the water.

"House!" Cuddy proclaimed, "Get Colin, and get out"

"I just wanted to suggest that you use the radio to maybe let someone know that we're down here" House defended, smirking slightly, "but if you'd rather just wait around in the hope that someone saw us…then that's fine too…do you think there's a flare gun in this thing?"

Cuddy measured up his lightly slurred tone and soon put two and two together. "Are you high?"

"I may have taken a little something for the excruciating pain I was in…" he replied, feigning guilt. "Colin's a Paramedic" he stage whispered, "he's got access to all kinds of cool drugs back here"

"Is he awake?" Cuddy asked hopefully as she pressed her hand back against the wound on the driver's head, vainly attempting to stop the blood that seemed to be flowing just as freely as a few minutes ago.

"No, I just stole his key to the cabinet…" he replied slowly, being sure not to make eye contact as he pretended to search for some sort of communication device.

"Something tells me that you're not being sarcastic" Cuddy stated as she followed his gaze to the roof of the ambulance.

"And you'd be right" House replied nonchalantly, leaning over to grab the radio that was hanging from the roof. "Ow!" he cursed as his right kidney reminded him that it hadn't gone away, and was still being brutally impaled by his broken lower ribs.

"Still hurts…" he muttered to himself as he shook his head and fiddled around with the transmitter, trying to send out a message for help – he was rewarded by someone calling out from the other end. "What? Could you repeat that in something resembling English?" House asked as the operator's shrill voice crackled through the otherwise silent cab.

Cuddy snatched the receiver out of his hands and reeled off their situation to a surprised sounding operator at the hospital control centre; she could only hope that the person the other end couldn't hear House mumbling incoherently about pain meds and dosages in the background.

When she finished the transmission and was informed that help was on its way, she turned her attention back to her conscious patient who was cradling his abdomen and trying to use a roll of gauze to mop his dripping brow, which indicated his fever was still in full force.

"They're sending a rescue team out now – do you think you can carry the big guy out of here?" she asked hopefully, indicating to Colin in the back.

"I wanted to shoot a flare..." House replied, much to the disappointment of his babysitter, "and my head is still killing me."

"What, and how much, did you take?" Cuddy asked, suitably frustrated by his neglect for his own health...and her own neglect for his health for that matter.

"Well, I can go back to writhing in pain in the back if you prefer?" came the reply, which wasn't exactly the one Cuddy was waiting for; she paused in her medical duties and gave him an exasperated look. "I took a bit of…something" he said still unwilling, or unable, to recall what he took, "don't worry – I'm not exactly back on the verge of passing out yet – we've got at least twenty minutes before this baby wears off"

"Please, just do me a favour and get the guy out of the back and onto the bank before we all drown" Cuddy requested, sounding as though she were talking to a small child.

"Well, since you asked _so_ nicely" House said, almost returning to his full sarcastic glory as he stumbled back to tend to Colin. "You do realise – the water's probably only a metre deep" he called back to further annoy his boss.

"Which is deep enough to drown somebody in" she replied in a dangerously low tone, causing House to raise his eyebrows in alarm.

"Okay Colin…yep, you're unconscious" House mumbled as he looked down on his would be life saver. How the hell Cuddy expected him to drag this guy from the ambulance was anyone's guess – had she forgotten who she was dealing with?

"House – it doesn't sound like you're doing much shifting back there" came an annoyingly calm voice from the front.

"Can we swap?" he called back, "this one's not as conveniently located as your one." Cuddy poked her head around the corner, sighing as she remembered that she was asking a cripple with broken ribs, a possible ruptured kidney and one arm tied to an IV line to move another man off of a _floor_ and down some steps onto an uneven riverbank.

"Can you at least assess him; see what's wrong with him?" she asked, reverting to some sort of 'plan B'

"Yeah, I know what _assess_ means, Cuddy" he replied whilst still staring at the man on the floor, "It's the logistics of the operation that are bothering me"

"House, you've taken what I can only imagine as an_ extremely high_ dose of painkillers – I'm sure it won't hurt you just to get down there and see if he's still breathing!" Cuddy ranted, sticking to her position by the injured driver and ignoring her former-patient's insistent moaning. 'Honestly, I think I preferred it when he couldn't talk'

"Of course it won't hurt _now_…but it'll probably kill me later" House said quietly as he lifted the corner of his t shirt to reveal massive bruising once again flaring up on his lower rib area. 'Maybe you should be a little more careful incase you actually _do_ die from internal bleeding in the back of an ambulance' he thought as he carefully crouched down beside Colin. 'How ironic would that be...'

He decided not to worry Cuddy with this unwelcome development, after all, she'd only start worrying about him again. It'd be better to let her know when the drugs wore off...it would be pretty hard to hide by then – even for Houdini-House.

**Author's Note: Two updates in one day...hopefully they didn't suck either? Let me know what you think of the tangent I seem to be going down...x**


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey Colin, nice of you to join us" House proclaimed overenthusiastically as the young EMT awoke; truth be told, he was beginning to think maybe he'd overindulged in the painkiller department earlier. 'Hyperactive' was the closest term to how he was feeling at that moment in time – and even that was an understatement.

House couldn't deny that pampering himself with painkillers had been worth the slight respite from agony, although he couldn't shake off the feeling that he'd somehow stumbled into a large oven. His brow further cemented this feeling as it dripped relentlessly, despite being wiped furiously with the sleeve of his t shirt. 'Good job you're on saline – or else you could have dried up completely by now' he though, snickering to himself as he imagined himself as a piece of dried fruit.

"Aren't you…the patient?" Colin croaked as he brought his hand up to feel the throbbing welt on the top of his head. He was slightly disorientated to find himself laying by the gurney in the back of his own ambulance, especially since, at first glance, his ailing patient seemed to have made a miraculous recovery and was behaving rather peculiarly.

"His memory seems to be fine" House called back to Cuddy, who was still doing her 'overly concerned medical act' thing with the driver. He directed his attention back to the man on the floor, "On a scale of one to ten – how would you rate your swimming ability?"

The other man stared at him for a second, his brow firmly knitted in confusion. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to get a reply, House added, "Would you rather rescue a cripple," he gestured to himself, "one of your own – and by that I mean your buddy up front there – or a lady with a rack so large, she'd probably float herself to safety in the middle of a storm over the Atlantic?" he finished by cupping his own chest thoughtfully.

"What happened?" Colin managed to reply after careful deliberation. 'This is obviously some kind of hallucination or vivid dream – you've got to stop working the late shift' he thought desperately as he dragged himself off of the floor, testing everything he touched to make sure it didn't simply turn to dust.

"Evel Knievel in the driving seat, wanted to jump the bridge, we ended up part way down a bank next to the river" House explained, wincing as he took the opportunity, presented as Colin shakily stood, to sit himself down on the gurney; his drug induced euphoria seemed to be heading for a downer, so he didn't particularly want to be standing. "Advice from my colleague is that we should _get the hell out of here before we drown_…" he added as an afterthought whilst playing around with the IV line in his arm.

"What about Nick?" Colin asked as it began to dawn on him that this might actually be real; he paled as he used the gurney to brace himself, his head was killing him.

"Nick would be…the driver right?" House asked, wondering briefly who else 'Nick' could actually be, 'His pet rat, maybe?'

Colin didn't reply, instead he decided to ignore the strange, sweating man and try to find his colleague himself. He leaned through the small gap through to the front, gasping as he saw his colleague being tended to by Cuddy.

"You're awake – are you hurt?" Cuddy asked cogently, she wasn't in the mood to wait around much longer for the rescue team. The driver wasn't showing any sign of waking up, which indicated the ever-present desperate need for them to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

"I, uh…yeah, I'm fine" the young EMT stammered as he squeezed himself through the gap. The van rocked with the uninvited shift in its centre of gravity; Cuddy held her breath tentatively, just waiting for it to stop moving.

"Please don't do that again" she requested calmly as the shaking came to a standstill, allowing her to relax a little more. "Where's House?" she asked, the polite caution serving as a reminder that her earlier tormentor was being remarkably quiet – suspiciously so.

"Err, House is…the patient?" Colin asked, thinking that the strange name seemed to suitably match his peculiar behaviour in the back.

"That's one way to describe him" she admitted, mumbling as she carefully checked the driver for breath sounds; keeping constantly busy was good for her nerves, it was the only explanation as to why she wasn't an emotional wreck yet.

"He's sitting back there – what happened?" Colin decided he'd have to be direct if he wanted straight answers.

"We crashed" she stated bluntly, "and we need to get out of here."

"And the patient? What happened to his ruptured kidney?" It was becoming horribly clear that this was no dream, despite the strange happenings.

"He took something…courtesy of your locked cabinet" Colin looked down to the keys on his waist band, which were no longer there.

"But…he can't do that!"

"If I had a nickel for every time I've heard _that_" came the long suffering reply from the exasperated administrator.

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House winced as the first pangs of pain broke through his drug induced protective barrier; he was too exhausted, and now far too wary of his injuries to try and get to the drugs cabinet again. So he sat, hunched over, on the gurney; suffering in silence.

At least, it would have been silent were it not for the insistant whirring of what sounded like helicopter blades overhead.

House groaned. As much as the sound was welcoming because it meant that they were certain to be rescued soon, it also meant he was going to be dragged mercilessly from his fading semi-euphoric cocoon much earlier than he would have preferred.

"Cuddy" he choked, not managing to get the whole name out before it died deep down in his throat. The pain was affecting his respiratory system once again, the 'magic' of his quick fix painkiller disappointing him with its refusal to stick around for long enough. His 'twenty-minute' prediction to Cuddy was failing miserably.

He tilted his head back slightly, still not daring to move much from his hunched position on the gurney for fear of causing himself more pain than he could physically handle. He stared at the drawers on the wall of the ambulance opposite, they were probably meticulously stocked and organised on a normal day…speaking of which – 'I wonder how much hair Wilson's pulled out worrying about this mess…'

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Wilson blew out a shaky breath. It had been 16 minutes and…37seconds since Cuddy had called him. Not that he was counting, because that would mean he was worried – and there wasn't anything to worry about, was there? 'But what if…' Wilson couldn't stop his mind from imagining all kinds of grim possibilities, most of them ended with a coding House and a hysterical Cuddy in the back of a cramped ambulance.

He shook his head in an attempt to clear away the nasty image before striding up to the reception desk. "Have you heard _anything_ from the ER?" he asked the young woman behind the desk just as the telephone began ringing, stealing away her attention.

Wilson began pacing once again, moving over to the large window that overlooked the ER ambulance bay…finding nothing. All of a sudden, the telephone conversation behind him inexplicably caught his attention.

He turned, realising from the enforced formalities from the normally chatty receptionist, that this must be an extremely important call. The disturbing images of House and Cuddy were once again firmly planted in the front of his mind as he peered over at what the receptionist was writing down whilst politely monosyllabically acknowledging whatever information the caller was firing at her.

Catching the fact that the ambulance had been in some sort of accident and that it required the occupants to be rescued, Wilson wasted no time in making a mental note of the location and sprinting off down the hall to get in his car. He needed to be there, even if it was just for his own piece of mind – he had to know that they were both okay…

**Author's Note: Super-Wilson to the rescue! Well...maybe not as dramatic as that. But anyway, let me know what you think because I'm lost without all of your comments and feedback...plus, sorry for the slow update (It's bank holiday weekend though – have had no work for three whole days; next chapter will be up much quicker!) Enjoy...**


	17. Chapter 17

Wilson skidded to a halt as he came up to a bridge, the tyres on his car squealing adequately much to the amusement of several police officers who were manning a road block ahead.

He jumped out of the vehicle and jogged up to the bemused men. "What happened?" he asked breathlessly as he peered past them to the chaos beyond. There were floodlights, fire engines, ambulances and cops everywhere – there was even a helicopter circling overhead; but no sign of Cuddy or House.

"A vehicle has crashed over the verge" a cop replied, unwilling to divulge too much information to the nearly-manic man.

"_Over the verge_…" Wilson repeated, walking over to the bridge to take a look. He cursed as the sight of track marks running down the steep embankment came into view; it was then that he saw the battered ambulance. Its wheels were well and truly mangled; the whole vehicle seemed to be sunk partially into the soft ground, and it was clear from the line of mud trailing behind it, that it was progressively sliding towards the edge of the river.

"Well - what are they waiting for?" Wilson asked as he witnessed some specialist rescue teams with harnesses on just waiting around by the roadside. "Shouldn't they be securing it or something?"

"Ah, they can't do anything 'till they've been briefed by their supervisor – health and safety gone mad" the officer replied dryly as he leant against the bridge nonchalantly. "They could slip and hurt themselves – that bank is steep, you know!"

Wilson gaped for a second before his attention was caught by many people shouting from the other side of the bridge; the ambulance was moving once again towards the water, and its front wheels were now almost touching the choppy river.

"Bloody hell, can you imagine that – being picked up by an ambulance, only to crash and be faced with the possibility of drowning in 12 feet of water?" the cop asked a shaky looking Wilson.

"Yeah but it's not 12 feet on the edge of the river is it?" Wilson asked, common sense telling him that the bank gradually gets lower and lower as the water gets higher.

"That's the thing – it's not a river, it's an old canal; the bank ends there and drops straight down…" the officer explained, pausing as he took a look at his companion, "hey, are you okay – you look a little pale?"

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"House – we need a neck brace…is there one back there?" Cuddy called through the gap to her colleague, "House?" she got no reply. Cursing, she clambered into the back to get the brace herself; she stopped dead as she saw her diagnostician hunched over and leaning against the wall uncomfortably, seemingly unconscious and barely breathing.

"House – shit…the drugs wore off then…" she knelt down in front of him and was alarmed at his poor respiratory rate. She grabbed the previously discarded O2 mask and desperately thrust it over his mouth and nose; he flinched at the contact and blearily opened his eyes.

"Couldn't get…" he gasped before he could finish as Cuddy pulled his t shirt up, putting her hand over her mouth as she saw the extent of internal bleeding. He pulled her out of her shock by jabbing her in the arm and pointing to the empty IV bag; Cuddy wasted no time in swapping the bag over for a fresh one, knowing that this was the only thing keeping him from passing out completely – the only thing she had control over in the condemned ambulance.

"Okay…we just need to get you out" she stated calmly as she moved carefully to the rear of the van, grabbing hold of the door handles and pulling them with all of her strength. "Oh no…" she groaned miserably.

"They're jammed" came a muffled knowing statement from her patient, as if he'd known about the stuck doors for a while.

"Its fine…it's fine, we can get out through the front." Cuddy explained with desperate optimism as she felt the van slide further down the embankment.

"Yeah, good luck with that." House mumbled dejectedly; Cuddy's optimistic disposition was beginning to grate on his already wounded nerves; just the thought of having to squeeze his tall frame through the tiny gap was instantly depressing.

"Just wait there" she ordered sharply as she grabbed a brace and made her way cautiously back through to the front. House would have snorted at the obvious stupidity of the statement had it not been for the agony his kidney was inflicting on him at that moment in time.

Cuddy's return to the cab was welcomed by Colin, who was beginning to think the two strangers in the back had bailed out on him. "He doesn't seem to have any other injuries" he said, referring to his companion, Nick.

"We need to get out of here" Cuddy said calmly as she reached up for the radio transmitter; Colin had been using it to relay the condition of his patients to the emergency services, but they weren't being told anything particularly useful in return.

"This is Dr Cuddy…I need to speak to the person in charge of this rescue…" she waited for a distorted reply before she carried on. "I have a patient with a serious head injury – who needs urgent medical attention…we have to get him out of here _right now_" she began, her tone oozing with professionalism yet not fully masking her panic, "I have another patient with severe internal bleeding…if we don't get him out of here soon…he'll _die_" she dropped the receiver back into its holder and stared at the shocked EMT looking back at her.

"We shouldn't really move him until we know for sure that he hasn't got any other injuries…" Colin said desperately, trailing off as a man's voice came back over the radio.

"I know…" Cuddy said quietly in reply, listening intently to the transmission for any sign that they were close to being rescued. "I'm just trying to get them to hurry up; I don't fancy having to get my feet wet – but I do think it would be better if we weren't stuck in here any longer" she admitted. "Just swing his door open and see if you can get out" she ordered as she allowed the young EMT to pass her and clamber over his partner.

It was getting fairly dark outside, it was difficult to see where the mud and grass ended and the water began; she only hoped that the bank was stable enough to stand on, or else her plan would fail miserably.

"It's fine" Colin said as he jumped a little, testing the ground; he spared a glance up the steep bank to where bright floodlights were shining down upon them. "It's gonna take them a while to make it down here…" he announced, shaking his head in disappointment and wincing when he was brutally reminded of his own head injury.

"Well, we don't have a while" Cuddy said harshly as she fastened the neck brace carefully on the driver; "Can you lift him?" she asked quickly, hearing an agonising groan coming from the rear – "House – hang on!"

Colin gave her a nod and set about pulling his co-worker from the ambulance, while Cuddy scrambled through to see how she would delicately get House out…if that was even possible.

"House – we're getting out of here, can you stand?" she asked hopefully, her entire plan being arranged on the condition that he could carry himself out. Unfortunately, from the look of him, he wasn't going to be physically able to drag himself out of there; not that Cuddy was going to let him off that easy, "Colin's out, Nick's out – and _he_ was unconscious" she started, attempting to call upon House's natural male instinct of _'well, if he did it, then I can definitely do it!' _

He swallowed painfully, giving her a half-confused, half-pained look as he grasped hold of the driver's headrest to pull himself up; the action proved too much for his body as his plummeting blood pressure forced him to drop heavily back down on the gurney.

Cuddy managed to grab hold of his forearm before he doubled over in agony; "Shit – sorry...this is madness..." she laughed humourlessly as the realisation dawned on her, overwhelming her completely – there was no way House was going to get out of here without serious help.

His blood pressure was still dropping despite the IV's; he needed a surgeon now more than ever, and Cuddy couldn't shake that familiar feeling of guilt. She couldn't just leave him now, but she needed to alert Colin of the slight hitch in their plan...

"Just go...not your fault..." House mumbled, keenly aware of her indecisive behaviour despite the fact that he wasn't even face to face with her. In fact, he was pretty much face to bust with her...'not an unattractive position to be ailing in really' he thought.

"It's _all _my fault...if I hadn't called the ambulance, we wouldn't-"

"Okay, it _is_ your fault...shut up already" he cut her off, groaning with a little more gusto, "do you seriously think I wanna hear you moaning as I live my last precious moments on this Earth?" he grumbled lightly, attempting to hide the fact that he was actually more scared now than he'd ever been in his whole miserable life.

"You're not going to die..." Cuddy dead panned, pulling his head firmly off of her chest; his eyes were beginning to travel further than she'd permit – dying or not dying, House was taking liberties.

"You don't know that..." he said softly, his eyes travelling from her hand on his face to her own eyes – a gesture that made her swallow uncomfortably at their stranglingly close proximity.

"House, you're not going to die." she repeated, keeping her hand planted firmly on his cheek, ignoring the startling discovery, found by her fingertips, that he was no longer burning up.

"Does that mean I don't get a last request?" he asked, his voice barely audible, but the cheeky undertone coming through loud and clear from the glint in his eyes.

"No – you don't" came the smooth reply as Cuddy attempted to refrain from grinning like a fourteen year old girl, instead opting to turn and leave. She made it about two feet before his hand shot out and grabbed her good wrist, turning her to face him once more.

He pulled her back with more strength than he believed he had left, she was now feeling completely helpless with her one good arm being held so firmly. "Cuddy, I-" House was sharply cut off by a shocking jolt as the ambulance seemed to lose whatever grip it had on the muddy bank, sending its occupants crashing into the side wall.

"Shit" he groaned whilst hitting the floor, as his ribs lodged further out of place, probably tearing up more organs in the process. "Get out - now!" he ordered weakly as Cuddy tried in vain to help him up.

But it was too late, the ambulance was in the canal...and it seemed a little deeper than they'd initially imagined. The lights flicked off, leaving them together, in darkness...

**Author's Note: This is probably getting painfully OOC now...but I'm having fun – so go easy on me! I won't leave you hanging for too long...depending on how many reviews tell me to hurry and wrap this fic up (once I start getting them, it disheartens me from writing more!) Enjoy! x**


	18. Chapter 18

Wilson choked back a cry as he watched the ambulance plunge into the canal; the cop with him was sympathetic enough to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder – although he wasn't too sure why this stranger was getting so emotional about someone else's peril.

"What – They have to – to do something!" Wilson exclaimed falteringly, panic taking over his whole body; "They have to get in there!" Before the cop could stop him, he was barging past the road block and sprinting over to the rescue team, keeping a close eye on the disappearing ambulance in the canal.

He was immensely relieved to see the first members of the team connecting their harnesses up, ready to start their descent. He was less pleased to see the steady, slow rate at which they were going however.

"Get me down there" he ordered an important looking man who seemed to be in charge of distributing the equipment. Wilson only hoped he would fool the old guy into thinking that he was supposed to be down there.

"Excuse me?" the man replied agitatedly, looking around for someone else to handle the pushy civilian.

"I'm a member of the medical team" Wilson lied diffidently, secretly hoping that his lie would get him a harness and a way down the bank; "I _need_ to be down there."

The man looked him up and down, taking note of the doctor's name tag and coat, but not believing for one second that this guy was a member of Jersey's elite rescue squad.

"Harness up – and follow that guy" he said in a hushed tone, pointing to another man in a harness who was about to lower himself down the muddy bank; 'Hell if this guy wants to break his neck to save people, then he's okay by me' he thought approvingly as he handed the heavy harness to Wilson.

Wilson gulped nervously as he stood, harnessed up, ready to follow the athletic looking guy below him. He often wondered to what point being friends with House would put his life in danger...the answer was at his feet, literally.

"Shit – House, you better not die after all of this" Wilson muttered as he slipped down the first couple of metres of bank; the blinding spotlights weren't helping him in seeing where the best footholds were at all.

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Both House and Cuddy were helplessly thrown apart as the front of the cab started filling with water at an alarming rate; the weight of the engine was pulling it down first, leaving the rear to flip up dramatically, momentarily stunning both its occupants.

House reached out blindly; he grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on, which happened to be the legs to the gurney. The emergency lights eventually kicked into action, sending a warm red glow through the van.

He felt a stinging on his arm; looking down and letting his eyes adjust to the artificial light, he found free flowing blood running from the crook of his elbow to his wrist; the IV line was nowhere to be seen, viciously ripped out by the movement.

"Cuddy?" he gasped, squinting to find his companion in the messed up ambulance, he saw her struggling to get up as the van tilted even more – until it was almost vertical.

"House!" she cried, urgently scrambling over to him; he winced as she placed her hands over his injured side – 'yep, I'm not a mirage…' he thought miserably as he attempted to slide up the wall into a standing position. 'There's got to be a way out…' he thought as he quickly surveyed the grim situation; the fact that Cuddy's optimism seemed to have been transferred into his own head could only be considered a good thing right now…

"When I smash that window – get out" he ordered, purposefully avoiding eye contact with her; she nodded, partially in shock. He grabbed a small metal rod from the gurney, holding the point end out; Cuddy watched in disbelief as he painfully clambered up onto the upright gurney, stretched in agony and swung his arm across to smash the glass.

Fortunately, the window came out in one sheet; House gingerly pushed it outwards and clambered unsteadily back down to the floor…which actually was a small partition separating them from the front and no longer the floor.

Big black circles danced in front of his eyes as the pain in his right hand side magnified and threatened to overwhelm him completely. 'Fuck...now you've done it' he thought desperately. He curled over in agony, catching sight of the water flooding into the front of the ambulance; "Go - now!" he choked out directly, shoving Cuddy clumsily towards the gurney.

She needed to get out before the water reached the window, or else she'd have no chance swimming out with a broken wrist; he only hoped that the rescue teams had gotten down to the embankment by now and could help her out of the water.

"What about you?" Cuddy asked, not letting go of his arm for fear of him falling.

"I'm right behind you" he said sincerely, putting as much false enthusiasm into the statement as he could, in addition to pushing her towards the gurney with a little more urgency. '_Please_ go…'

Cuddy made her way carefully up the side of the gurney, hissing as she caught her hand on a stray piece of glass stuck in the window edge; she looked back to House, who was holding onto the bottom of it, reassuringly nodding her on.

She jumped clear of the ambulance, spluttering as she furiously paddled one-handed towards the shore; she squinted against the harsh spotlights that were trained on the area, still managing to reach her hand out to fumble for the bank. There was plenty of urgent shouting and movement at her emergence from the canal; relief washed over her as she saw men abseiling down the steep bank to help them.

To her complete surprise, Wilson was there taking her hand and dragging her out of the water; he whipped off his coat and wrapped it round her shoulders, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking just as much as she was, from the physical exertion of climbing down the embankment.

"Where's House?" he asked, urgency evident by the volume of the question; Cuddy paled remembering his last words..._I'm right behind you._

"House!" she yelled, turning to where she'd just swam from; but the ambulance had gone, and in its place were a few large bubbles, tauntingly breaking the surface.

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House collapsed as soon as he heard Cuddy splash into the water outside; he had surprised himself by being able to stand firm for that long in the first place. He felt the cold water seeping through his sweats, if he didn't die of internal bleeding now he could drown instead… 'Just. Fucking. Great'

He widened his eyes in an attempt to keep them open, it didn't help with his drowsiness when everything around him kept blurring under the flickering red emergency light. Dragging over the portable O2 mask and canister, he fought desperately with his hands which were shaking from a combination of cold, fear and his now ever-present internal bleeding problem.

He lent his head back against what used to be the roof; formulating an escape plan from 'impending doom' was much harder in real life than in the films. 'I'm pretty sure if you were in a film right now, you would at least have kissed Cuddy' he thought regrettably, 'and she would have been wearing less...so much less'

His adrenaline fuelled energy reserves had been drained from his aching body completely; he couldn't stand, he couldn't swim and he could barely stay awake. 'Now would be a good time to find religion' he thought miserably, 'because it'll be a _miracle_ if this works...'

He closed his eyes as the water cascaded through the windowless frame; in his last ditch attempt at survival, House pressed the O2 mask firmly over his mouth, determined not to give up yet as he became completely submerged under the cold water…

TBC

**Author's Note: Worst cliffhanger I've ever written...and for that I do apologise (I really do feel guilty - hehe) On a serious note - I have to thank **_**everyone**_** who reviewed in the last chapter – that was amazing, you guys really did make me smile! Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter just as much? lol x**


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: Not really a cliff-hanger in this chapter (well, nothing that we didn't know already!) purely so I don't give chaoskir a heart attack! Hope you still like it – let me know, please! All the lovely reviews for chapter 18 made me happy, and then this chapter magically appeared…Enjoy! x**

Wilson held onto Cuddy as she scrambled closer and closer to the edge of the canal searching franticly for House; he stared at the fading ripples in the water, his mind screaming at him that he had to save his best friend. 'You can't leave him to die...not here, not now'

After pushing Cuddy in the direction of the small rescue team as a distraction, he hastily pulled his jumper off and was fumbling with his shoes when a strong hand grasped his shoulder. "Don't even think about it son" came a familiar tone.

Wilson shot round and recognised the owner of the voice; it was the elderly man who was handing out harnesses at the top of the verge. "But, he'll drown!" he protested angrily; he was feeling the strongest emotional attachment to House now, more than he ever had before... and it hurt to think of him dying alone in this miserable canal.

"That's what I'm here for" the old man grinned, producing the smallest rebreather Wilson had ever seen from his belt hook; "This'll give me three minutes to find your..._friend_" the man gave Wilson another quick scan with his curious eyes before pulling his uniform off and heading towards the waters edge. "Peters – start counting" he ordered sharply before diving nimbly into the water.

"Yes Sir!" came the obedient reply from one of the athletic rescuers who was holding the brightest torch that Wilson had ever seen in his life, in the general direction of the submerged ambulance. He dropped to his knees and strained his eyes desperately seeking out the mysterious diving man.

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The diver glided through the water, following the misty light that was casting itself over the rear of the ambulance. He circled the vehicle looking for a way in; it didn't take him long to find the windowless frame, even in the murky depths of the filthy water.

He pulled himself in, glancing around urgently looking for the injured man; luckily the emergency light was still glowing steadily, casting a red tinge on everything around it.

Moving the gurney slightly to gain access to the other side of the van, the diver was surprised to feel something grab at his arm; it was the patient, and he was using an O2 mask as an underwater respirator... 'Interesting idea' he acknowledged, impressed with the notion that this guy seemed smarter than his usual patients.

House felt an overwhelming urge to smile at his saviour, but decided against it as the facial movement would probably break the effective seal he had formed by pressing the mask tightly over his mouth and nose.

He focused on the diver as he signalled that they would ascend together but House would have to take a deep breath and leave the O2 mask and canister behind. There was a slight flaw to the plan however.

Trying to take a deep enough breath to stop himself from passing out wouldn't be easy for House with his ribs in the state that they were in; unfortunately, he wasn't too sure how to let the diver guy know this piece of information...so he simply nodded and took a breath. 'This guy better be a fast swimmer...' he thought as he wrapped his arm around the other man's waist.

As the diver dragged House from the corner of the ambulance by the scruff of his neck, he felt his rebreather getting weaker and weaker; he ultimately determined that roughly 3 minutes had now passed since he had dived into the canal – the light flashing on and off on the surface of the water confirmed this.

House's kidney was screaming at him, daring him to cry out in pain and lose what little oxygen he had left. He managed pretty well until the diver inadvertently struck the area with his knee as he kicked furiously to get them to the surface. House choked out and panicked as he struggled to keep from inhaling water; he could feel himself fading, within 10 seconds he was unconscious.

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The diver emerged, quickly gasping for air then locking his sights on his target – the bank. His muscles burned as he used his energy to literally drag the taller man to safety; he could feel that his patient was no longer conscious and it spurred him on harder.

Wilson rushed over to the waters edge, keeping out the way of the rescue team who were throwing ropes into the water to drag their leader out. He heard Cuddy choke back a sob as they both realised with pitted stomachs that House was unconscious, possibly dead; Wilson quickly turned her away from the sight, momentarily forgetting that she was a doctor, and that this was the second time she'd seen him apparently die.

Two strong rescuers dragged his pale, limp body from the water and kneeled down beside him, taking vitals in an attempt at assessing whether or not he was worth trying to resuscitate – he'd been under for at least seven minutes. The diver was unable to let them know about the O2 mask until he'd caught his breath.

"He's still breathing!" came a shout of disbelief from one of the four-man rescue team as he gingerly rolled the patient onto his side in the recovery position, being sure to keep his airway clear; "his pulse is barely there though – and it's elevated" he added, his fingers barely able to register anything through the patients cold, soaking wet neck.

"Get that helicopter down here – now!" another man shouted, his urgent tone jolting everyone into action. Cuddy was given a harness and was assisted into it by a young rescuer who offered to carry her up the steep bank over his shoulder.

"Helicopter can't land here – power lines" the diver yelled across to the rest of the team as he pointed to some overhead lines; "We've got to get him up there" he pointed up the bridge, which was free of any obstacles. "Someone get me a stretcher down here - now!" Three of the team scrambled up the bank to sort out the transportation of the patient, leaving Wilson, a young rescuer and the diver alone with House.

"Monitor his vitals and strap him up, ready for the climb" the boss diver ordered; "You – you're a doctor, right?" Wilson nodded in reply, keeping his eyes on House. "You monitor him and he'll strap him up" he demanded, knowing full well that Wilson wouldn't hesitate in helping out.

Wilson carefully made his way over to where House was sprawled keeping his eyes firmly planted on his best friend for fear of missing something; getting closer, he winced as he saw the blood trailing down from the crook of House's elbow and pooling in the mud below.

Cursing, he ungracefully slid the rest of the way down the bank, yanking his tie off in the process. 'He can't afford to lose any blood right now…' he thought as he kneeled beside the ailing diagnostician and gently wrapped the tie around the wound; he was stunned when he felt a flinch at his actions.

"House?" he gasped elatedly, putting a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. The young rescuer was catching supplies being thrown down the bank, so Wilson kept talking, "Don't worry; we're getting you out of here soon-"

House agonisingly groaned in response, 'Wilson? What the hell is Wilson doing here?' he thought perplexedly, 'Oh shit…_you're dead_' he concluded, panic causing his breath to come in short gasps as he tried vainly to open his eyes.

"Whoa! Calm down – House! Listen to me, they're airlifting you out of here – just hang on…breathe for me" Wilson desperately tried to calm his friend down.

'Oh fuck…okay, maybe you're not dead – besides, Wilson wouldn't be a very good candidate as a guardian angel, too many cute angels to distract him' House's brain was whirring franticly as usual, 'Okay…you're wet, freezing and can't feel any pain – but you're not dead; definitely not dead...probably in Hypovolaemic shock, but still _not dead_ – just breathe and keep awake; c'mon you idiot, you do it everyday of your bloody life – breathe and keep awake…'

"C-Cuddy?" House gasped after a minute of willing himself not to pass out again.

"She's fine – just got a fireman's lift up the bank by some young, good-looking emergency rescue person; I think she secretly enjoyed it" Wilson laughed nervously, keeping his hand on House's shoulder.

"You're freezing" he stated, pulling the small blanket tighter around the other man's body; "probably not doing you a lot of good wearing those drenched clothes, huh?" he asked rhetorically, testing to see if he could tear through House's flimsy t shirt.

When they'd pulled him out of the water, they had laid him out on a groundsheet and thrown a blanket over him; these were the only supplies they could safely carry down the steep bank – 'Gotta stop him from getting colder…' Wilson thought worriedly as he imagined the damage being done from House's muscles tensing up over his ribs as he shook uncontrollably.

Luckily, House's earlier fever had forced him to don the oldest, thinnest t shirt from his collection; Wilson was able to rip through it with no problems at all. He tore it off quickly, not wanting to keep his patient's body exposed to the cool air for longer than absolutely necessary; he must have sucked in a shocked breath at the sight of House's bruised flesh though because he looked up to find him, eyes closed tight in concentration, frowning slightly and trying to talk.

"That b-bad, huh?" House struggled with the words as his mouth frustratingly refused to listen to his brain, the cold slowing the communication process.

"You'll be fine once they get you to hospital…" Wilson replied quietly, not wanting to lie to his best friend by telling him that it was okay now, when it clearly wasn't. The ugly bruising was dangerously fresh and it was an unwelcome indicator of possibly more internal haemorrhaging…

TBC…


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: I would have posted this earlier, but I had to rewrite it several times (scrapping about three completely different drafts!) So hopefully this is okay...? I have some great ideas for the next chapter or two (then I'll wrap it up – I promise!) Enjoy (and embrace the almost-Huddyness!) x**

Cuddy winced as the young EMT gingerly cut off her sodden, graffiti-riddled cast; she was sitting in the back of yet another ambulance at the top of the verge after refusing to let them take her in until she'd seen House safely into the helicopter.

She'd hated the way she sounded like a panic-stricken wife demanding to know if he was okay or not, but apparently the rescue teams were more than familiar with this reaction from loved ones.

_Loved ones_? Now that wasn't something she'd been referred to in regards to House before. Yet, for the rescue personnel, it seemed to fit. She certainly cared if he was still breathing; although, she could put that down to guilt more than anything else.

She pulled a thick blanket firmly around her damp clothes, ignoring the look a nearby EMT gave her for being so stubborn as to refuse to be taken to hospital yet; forgoing her own health to make sure House was fine would have seemed like madness to her too, at least, two days ago it would…

Allowing a small grin to play on her lips, she turned the cast over in her hands; _Property of G House_… '_He_ would think he owns you…' she thought bemusedly as her attention was caught by something else written on the previously unseen part of the cast.

Written in neat, compact handwriting, away from the games of tic tac toe and stickmen families was an apology. "_Sorry for ruining your weekend_" she read, feeling completely stupid for clamming up slightly at the unexpected words.

'Oh, pull yourself together; this is _House._ It's probably just his way of being smug and…' but she couldn't think what he would actually gain out of writing it. 'Doesn't mean it's a genuine apology…' she tried to convince herself, failing miserably as she thought back to what he did for her in the ambulance. 'Maybe you're not the only one feeling guilty…' she concluded as commotion by the edge of the bank shook her out of her musings.

Cuddy got as close to the edge as she could without getting in the way of the rescue team; she sucked in a concerned breath as she heard a weary groan from her patient. 'He's awake' she thought, making her feel both reassured and apprehensive at the same time as she watched the small crew hoist the patient over the top of the bank on a plastic stretcher.

Wilson scrambled over the top, cursing as he slipped once again in the mud; never again would he be idiotic enough to attempt abseiling down muddy banks, especially not in a starched, white doctor's coat.

"Wilson!" Cuddy called as the rescue team ran full pelt towards the helicopter with House strapped to the stretcher, his limp limbs lolling with every painful jolt.

Wilson watched the men taking his friend away, and then turned to his boss; prioritising his attention in such frantic circumstances seemed to come naturally for the Oncologist.

"What's wrong?" Cuddy asked fearfully, seeing the hesitation clearly in Wilson's stance.

"I…He…" Wilson motioned to the helicopter, which was taking off; "…from his ribs all the way down to his hip" he finished, unable to articulate what he was trying to say, but knowing Cuddy would immediately understand.

"The internal bleeding" she stated quietly, her mind flashing back to the ambulance.

Wilson nodded, "I don't even know how he's still awake, let alone…" he trailed off reluctantly as the image of House closing his eyes and falling into the deepest sleep of his life, involuntarily flashed into his head.

"Where are they taking him?" Cuddy asked sternly, knowing that she had to find this out before Wilson started retching, or worse, passed out on her – he was now looking particularly pale.

"Uh, I told them we had a team waiting at Princeton Plainsboro' already" he said shakily, "they're still waiting, right?"

"Yeah" she replied softly, leading Wilson into her ambulance and indicating to the waiting EMT that she was ready to be taken in now. "They're ready and waiting."

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For House, the entire helicopter journey passed amid one huge, uncomfortable blur; if anyone was to ask him about it later on, he'd deny he was ever in it. He couldn't recall much from the transfer from bank to air; he'd come back to reality when an O2 mask was thrust swiftly over his mouth and a BP cuff was applied to his upper arm.

The immense relief at being allowed to spend the journey on his left hand side was momentarily ruined early on as his injured arm was further bound and manipulated at the discovery of free-flowing blood; the sickly throbbing at the crook of his elbow where the IV line was ripped out was enough to add to his agonising discomfort, causing him to flinch feebly against his medical aide.

The EMT wasn't deterred, carrying on regardless as he released the injured arm and prepared the other for a new IV. His patient's BP was unsteadily low, and judging by the multicoloured bruising covering a good part of his right hand side, it was due to some serious internal bleeding.

The flight lasted only a matter of minutes. House felt the stretcher being rushed out of the helicopter and into the hospital; it was too much effort to pry his eyes open in the hope that he could determine which hospital he'd eventually ended up in.

He could feel his body growing weary of surviving merely on instinct; his breath was becoming harder to find and the pain in his back was fading...but not in a good way. It was all he could do not to attempt to yell at the staff pushing him through the brightly lit corridors to 'go faster'.

Eventually he gave up the fight and let unconsciousness wash over him; relieving him of having to remember trivial little things, such as 'how to breathe'. All he could do now was hope he would wake up.

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Cuddy and Wilson charged determinedly through the familiar corridors of PPTH, ignoring the shocked faces of other members of staff and patients.

Cuddy was still clutching the blanket tightly around her shoulders with her good hand, her hair damp and tangled, her clothes soggy and wrinkled; Wilson looked no better with his usually pristine coat caked in mud and blood…House's blood.

They reached the waiting area outside the OR and paused, unsure of what they were expecting to find. Cuddy sighed, "I'm going to shower – they're going to be a while, and that river did nothing for my hair; let me know if anything…changes" she said calmly to the Oncologist's back.

"Oh, and Wilson," he turned to look at her inquisitively, "change your coat before you start scaring patient's away" he smiled slightly before pulling the coat off and dumping it behind the nurse's station as Cuddy retreated.

It didn't take long for him to settle down into a chair directly outside of the operating room, ready for the long wait…

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It took less than half an hour for Cuddy to reappear; looking and smelling less like the creature from the lagoon. She felt a lot better too; that is, until she saw the worried frown on Wilson's face as he stood to meet her. 'Something's happened...'

She found herself taking in a deep breath and holding it as Wilson filled her in with the details. "They weren't able to do it laparoscopicly; they had to go in through his side..." Wilson began, hesitating slightly as he cleared his throat nervously; "He coded. Just before they got him in there. But they've got him stable now...His 12th right rib had to be removed and the kidney also had to be taken out..."

"But that's fine, right?" Cuddy asked, reassuringly putting a hand on Wilson's shoulder; "It means the problem's gone now"

"Yeah." Wilson stated unconvincingly, sitting back down and leaning his head against the wall dejectedly.

"Don't tell me – you're feeling guilty too?" Cuddy guessed, trying not to smile at the fact that _guilt_ seemed to be the order of the day. She shook her head slightly in disbelief, "I've got to get this seen to" she motioned to her poorly wrist; "think you'll be able to manage feeling guilty for both of us while I'm gone?"

"Sure" he replied, not really listening to a word she was saying, but keeping his focus on the passage to the OR.

"Wilson" his head snapped away from the door at Cuddy's call; "He'll be fine...he'll be in a lot of pain – but he'll be okay"

"Yeah" Wilson said softly, watching his boss walk authoritatively down the corridor. He sighed as he recalled what the Surgical team had really told him..._He's coded twice already. It's touch and go. He may not make it through the night. _

'Oh, Cuddy is going to kill you if she ever finds out you lied to her about his condition...' he thought miserably; 'But House _asked_ you to; he specifically told you to 'tell her everything will be alright' because he didn't want to hurt her again...' he remembered the laboured conversation he and House had gone through on the way to the top of the bank. House had virtually given him a list of instructions and orders to follow in the event of his death; Wilson had told him to 'shut up and save your energy for more productive things – like breathing!'

"I'm not lying for you any more, House" Wilson muttered quietly, aiming the statement beyond the closed doors and to the lifeless man on the operating table; "You can damned well tell her yourself that you're in love with her..."

**TBC...**


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: The first section is sort of from House's perspective (Sorry, but if I don't say it – I'll get someone asking about it!) then it goes back to the free-for-all that's usually associated with my shoddy writing style. Hope you enjoy; No real action in this chapter (and hardly a cliff-hanger to worry about), hopefully it's not too boring? Let me know… x**

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House panicked as a wave of uncertainty washed over him; 'Oh shit – am I dead? Did they make it in time? Why can't I open my eyes?' he thought franticly as the Anaesthesia rendered him hopelessly lost.

He couldn't feel anything. No pain in his leg, back or arm. He couldn't move; although, he was aware that he wasn't laying on his back. 'Thank God…' The only other thing he seemed to be able to grasp, at that moment in time, was the fact that he could hear people talking around him.

_The twelfth rib was the cause of the rupture; it was probably supported by the swelling earlier on... _House zoned out temporarily until the voice changed to one that was more familiar; he really didn't want to hear what they'd done to him without being able to sufficiently berate them for it.

_How bad was it? _He heard Wilson ask anxiously after the other man finished his long-winded explanation; 'Surgeons really are boring…I'm surprised he even had to use an anaesthetic on me…'

_Bad enough that we found it necessary to remove the rib before it caused more damage. _The stern voice replied; House determined it was a surgeon from PPTH; particularly judging by the way he didn't seemed too bothered about removing a patient's rib, indicating he probably knew House and didn't much like him.

'You removed my rib? Do you realise how much that is gonna hurt?' House thought, panic rising as the fear of agonisingly horrific pain shrouded him for a moment. 'Calm down you idiot – you're not in any pain…yet'

_Will his sats improve? _'Jesus, I didn't even know they were bad' House thought, now dimly aware of the O2 mask on his face; he was glad he was unconscious during the intubation period. The O2 mask over the face was almost soothing compared to waking up with a tube shoved down your throat and a machine breathing for you.

_We would hope to see an improvement over the next few hours, provided he wakes up from the Anaesthesia…Dr Wilson, you do realise how lucky he was to make it this far? _The voice was beginning to piss House off now; 'Of course he realises – he's a doctor too, you moron!'

_Yes...I realise…Uh, Will there be lasting damage from the op? _Wilson asked, annoying House. 'Don't be stupid, Wilson; you don't need two kidneys…basic human anatomy tells you that!'

_If he survives this…_The surgeon must have been shaking his head at Wilson's absolute refusal to accept that his friend may not live through the night because everything fell silent for a few seconds. _If he regains consciousness, he'll be in considerable discomfort…_ 'Otherwise known as _complete agony_' House thought nonchalantly as he heard the voices getting further and further away. 'No, don't walk away! Come back!'

_But as long as the incision doesn't become infected, he should be fine, right?_ came Wilson's next question as they apparently turned to face the patient once again.

_I've done my job; all we can do now is pump him full of antibiotics and blood; I'm afraid I don't give guarantees. _'Yeah, play the whole 'no refunds' card…what surgeon doesn't do that?' _I'll need to speak to his attending-_

_Yeah, you're looking at him... _'Oh God, No way!' House groaned inwardly, wishing he wasn't bedridden and semi conscious. 'Wilson, let the real doctors play with the good toys – I don't have cancer; I don't need an Oncologist!'

_You're his attending? _House could pretty much imagine the surgeon looking down his nose at Wilson with a mixture of disbelief and bemusement on his face.

_Yes _Wilson didn't sound too sure; _I know his history, he trusts me _'I don't trust you that much…' _Look, I'm here – I don't trust anyone else…just tell me what I need to know...please. _'Don't beg, now you sound pathetic!'

_If you want to be his attending, then you can be his attending. Although I understand that Dr Cuddy may have the final authority to provide such an appointment. _'Where the hell _is_ Cuddy anyway? I don't want Wilson as my attending!' _Okay, here's the full account of the surgery… _

'Jesus, how did he fall for tha – ow! Oh shit!' Pain flummoxed any thoughts that were processing in House's disjointed mind as he choked back a cry, his eyes flickering open and immediately closing in reflex to the bright hospital lighting that blinded him.

He distinctly heard the scraping of a chair and at least two sets of feet jogging over to him before he was put out with fantastically strong painkillers, presumably via the IV line now situated in his left arm. 'Christ…if it hurts this much when I'm heavily drugged…' the thought drifted off before he could contemplate the pain he'd be likely to experience in a few hours time, his mind unable to unfold such complex issues whilst inviting oblivion.

_Apparently he may be stronger than I thought_ House heard the surgeon admit to Wilson, before he was warmly welcomed back into the land of la la.

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The only problem with drifting under a General Anaesthetic was the dreams it invited; some of them were great, but most of them were unnerving.

House awoke with a start, under the impression that he was trapped in a capsized submarine…or ship…or… "Ambulance – fuck" he choked as his eyes flickered open and the pain in his side overwhelmed him.

The high pitched noises coming from the heart and pulse ox monitors above his head were deafening; it took him more than a few seconds of gasping and blinking in shock to realise that he was facing an extremely concerned looking Cuddy, who seemed to be shouting something at him.

"Speak to me, House!" Cuddy repeated, turning away momentarily to yell to Wilson, "He's not responding – just give him the analgesic before he arrests!"

Wilson hovered the drug over the IV port; within the last two minutes, he'd completely changed his mind about being House's attending. He'd waited through three hours of surgery and an hour of post op monitoring, only to freeze at the last minute.

"Wilson!" Cuddy shouted sternly, regretting her unwilling descision to appoint him as House's attending. 'I knew this was a bad idea…' she thought as she kept a reassuring hand on House's shaking shoulder, glaring at the other doctor as he eventually plunged the drug into the patient's system. Cuddy felt the tension leave House's body as he calmed down and breathed a little easier.

"I couldn't – shit" Wilson cursed as he dropped the empty vial onto the floor and looked up to meet Cuddy's angry gaze.

She saw the raw panic in his eyes and her demeaneor softened slightly; "Go and get some rest…" Wilson was about to argue before she cut him off, "You've been up for at least 18 hours, straight – you can't do anything for him until he wakes up properly…I'll stay with him until then."

It was a sensible proposition and Wilson could see no room for arguments. "Page me if he wakes up again" he said quietly as he shuffled towards the door, "and don't tell him I screwed up."

"You didn't…screw up" Cuddy didn't manage to get the sentence out before Wilson had left the room; she sighed and turned her attention back to the patient, "feeling better?"

"Much…" House gasped, watching her through half-lidded eyes, "how did you-"

"Your breathing is restricted, pulse is elevated and you're trembling slightly; it wasn't hard to determine it's because you're conscious." Cuddy replied as she adjusted his O2 cannular slightly. "How bad is the pain?"

"S'not bad" he slurred, wincing slightly as he attempted to move his left arm which was a little dead, probably from him laying on it.

"Liar" Cuddy said softly, putting her hand out to stop him from moving his arm any further, "You don't want to rip out your IV" she explained. "Just let me know when you want to hear about your surgery. I've got the notes somewhere around here…"

"How's your wrist?" he asked quietly, closing his eyes and favouring the sounds of the hospital rather than the sights.

"Err…it's still attached" Cuddy replied, sounding surprised at the unexpected question; "Had to get a new cast fitted after the other one got wet – apparantly you're not supposed to go swimming with them on" she deadpanned.

House smirked lazily, still keeping his eyes closed; it was suprising to realise how soothing Cuddy's voice actually was. 'It's probably just the drugs…but I could lay here and listen to her talk _all day_…' he thought contently, 'especially since she's not yelling at me...'

"House?" He cracked one eye open tiredly at the soft whisper of his name, taking in the sight of his worried looking boss; "Sorry, I thought maybe you'd fallen asleep…you really should get some rest now" she acknowledged, feeling terribly guilty for keeping him up with her mundane chatting.

The relief at finding him awake and relatively coherant had her positively elated, though; but the last thing she wanted to do now was keep him from getting the valuable rest he needed in his recovery. 'There'll be time to talk later…then maybe you can tell him how you feel…'

She pulled the small visitors chair over and sat close to his sleepy form; after doing a quick scan of his vitals, she meticulously checked over him with her eyes.

The hospital starched sheets were pulled up as far as his waist, ending at the dressing over his fresh wound, the insicion site from his recent op.

His magnificent bruising was just as prominent and startling over his ribs now that it was several colourful shades of blue, and was accompanied by what would become an outstanding scar.

His right arm was bandaged at the elbow, fresh blood seeping slightly through the white material where the IV had been ripped out earlier in the night. He was on his left hand side, both arms bent with his hands just in front of his face; if he were to start sucking one of his thumbs, she would surely mistake him for a five year old…albeit at very tall, gruff looking five year old!

Cuddy leaned back in the chair, placing an arm over her stomach as she felt some discomfort; she put it down to hunger pangs and took a couple of deep breaths until the pain passed. "Did you get checked over?" House's voice almost made her jump out of the chair in shock.

"What?" she snapped, a little harsher than planned; he'd caught her unaware with his question, especially since she'd told him to sleep – and she'd assumed that he had been following that order.

"When you were rescued by the good looking guy…" he elaborated slowly, exasperation and jealously tinging his fatigued words to some extent; "did he check you over? Has anyone checked you're okay since you came in?"

"No, why?" she asked apprehensively; House acting all kind and caring was worrying her. "For some reason we were more concerned with _your_ wellbeing…" she said patronisingly as she pulled her jumper off. 'Why do they make hospital rooms so damned hot?' she thought indignantly as she stuffed the offending jumper into her bag.

"You've got Salmonellosis…" he said weakly, too quietly for Cuddy to hear, as he fumbled for his PCA; the pain was rearing it's ugly head and he required relief, right now. He pressed the button to increase his painkillers, but nothing happened; he continued pressing in desperation, secretly willing Cuddy to help him.

"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly, taking note of his shallow breathing and flushed cheeks, "We haven't got the PCA set up yet – hang on" she scooted round the bed and grabbed a vial, injecting some of its contents into his IV line. "We really weren't expecting you to be awake so soon…"

House grunted in response and lost himself in the respite; he was aware that he needed to say something to Cuddy, but he couldn't recall what or why as he drifted off into a troubled sleep...

TBC…


	22. Chapter 22

When House awoke next, it was to the sound of a much busier hospital. He glanced around, catching sight of Wilson talking to a nurse just outside of the door. 'Ah, my saviour…' House thought amusedly when the Oncologist entered the room in a fluster as he realised the patient was awake.

"Hey, are you in any pain?" came the breathless question as he did his own check of the various monitors and sats; House shook his head slowly, savouring the high that he was happily riding for the time being. Wilson looked relieved, even managing a small smile as he made sure House had access to his PCA control.

"Hows Cuddy?" House croaked uncomfortably, vaguely remembering his hazy conversation with her before he was put out earlier.

"She said something about needing to go to the bathroom..." Wilson replied, a little freaked out by the grin House flashed at him at this admission. "What?"

"She's got Salmonellosis..." House whispered, still grinning like a loon; he blamed the combination of painkillers and the still-fading general anaesthetic for his reasonably pleasant mood.

"Huh, food poisoning?"

House attempted a lazy eye-roll; "No, from the _water_" he stated patronisingly slowly. Wilson nodded in indication that he understood before frowning at the diagnostician, who seemed to be mulling over something important in his head.

"What's wrong?"

"Why did you ask to be my attending?" House asked calmly, keeping his eyes locked onto Wilson's own, watching the other man squirm momentarily under his scrutiny and deepen his frown.

"Who told you?" Wilson replied sceptically; he turned away from House and pretended to be busy with writing in his chart.

"I heard you…" House answered enigmatically, capturing his friend's curiosity; "when I came out of surgery; you practically begged the surgeon to let you take my surgery report…which makes me wonder…why?"

Wilson scoffed in disbelief; "You were unconscious, House…you heard nothing" but he didn't sound too sure. The nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him that House wouldn't have brought it up if he wasn't sure about it – 'He _was_ unconscious, wasn't he?' "Does it matter?"

"Maybe…I don't know what you're hiding yet, do I?" the lazy reply came. "What reason did you give Cuddy for wanting to be my attending?"

"I…don't remember." Wilson lied, hoping House would drop it and go back to sleep.

"You're lying" House said, becoming more alert as each second passed; Wilson lying was one thing, Wilson lying to Cuddy was something else entirely – and very interesting.

"This means you've probably lied about something else...something big" House knew he was getting close when his friend got that 'guiltily hunched over shoulders' look going on – yet he couldn't put his finger on it...too hazy 'Damn Anaesthetic'

"I can always ask Cuddy when she gets back-"

"I had to lie to her – you asked me to!" Wilson hissed angrily, glancing around the room as though Cuddy would jump out from behind the door.

House frowned, "What…did you tell her you're really a Nephrologist?" he asked indolently, desperately trying to clear his head enough to be able to decipher the puzzle.

"No…I just skipped over a few important facts when I filled her in on your condition" the Oncologist replied, looking completely guilt ridden and desperate to get it off his chest.

"What facts?" House asked curiously; he still hadn't been coherent enough to hold an entire conversation with anyone since he had awakened early in the night, so he hadn't been filled in on how his surgery actually went.

Wilson was only too aware of this fact. "They lost you before they could get you in the OR. Luckily, you were right outside the ER when it happened…they managed to get you back after less than two minutes…"

Unnervingly, Wilson seemed to have the entire journey logged and memorised. "You were intubated in the hallway by someone on the late shift…" he took a deep breath as he recalled what the surgeon had told him whilst waiting for House to come out of the Anaesthesia; "About half an hour into the operation…the tube wasn't placed right; your sats fell and you had to be re-intubated…then _they_ lost you too."

"How long?" House asked firmly, seemingly unfazed by the account of how he lost another two of his nine lives. Which probably only left approximately...one life to go.

Wilson swallowed nervously; "Three minutes…The rib had to be removed because it was badly bent, there was no way it would have healed properly and it was restricting their access to your kidney...after all the blood that had to be pumped back into you - they were afraid you wouldn't make it through the night with such poor O2 sats…"

"Apparently they were wrong." House said nonchalantly, feeling the need to fill in the awkward gap that was hosting silence between them after Wilson had paused to breathe.

"They had to take out a rib, House!" Wilson shouted, unable to see how his friend could take this so calmly; "You've got a 10 inch incision down your right hand side and only one kidney!"

"I'm aware that I'm missing a rib and a kidney – what I want to know is why you're so angry about it?" House countered heatedly, furiously wishing he wasn't stuck in his pathetic position in the bed, and cursing the Anaesthesiologist – who would most definitely _not_ be receiving a fruit basket.

"You almost died...you did die, twice and...and..." Wilson threw his hands out in defeat, unable to shout at his vulnerable, heavily medicated friend much more.

"You told Cuddy that everything was fine." House stated knowingly, finishing his statement for him; Wilson rewarded him with a small nod. "Everything _is_ fine…Cuddy doesn't need to know anything – but I _do not_ want you as my attending" he finished, completely knackered. Wilson opened his mouth to retort and argue; House cut him off, "you're too subjective, too worried, too caring" House listed, spitting the last word as though it were a curse.

Luckily, the Oncologist didn't take this as an insult. "Well, who do you want?" he asked, making a mental list of doctor's at PPTH who may not have been pissed off by House, one way or another…it was a very small list.

"Chase" House mumbled into his pillow.

"Chase? As in…_Chase_?" Wilson replied disbelievingly.

"Is there more than one Chase working here?" House asked, trying to push away the headache currently forming from having to let Wilson down gently.

"Not that I'm aware of. Why Chase?" Wilson was quickly becoming annoying; he was relieved at House for not wanting him to be his attending, but couldn't help feeling hurt too.

"He's an Intensivest, he doesn't give a crap about my private life and he has the distinct advantage of being located right outside the door…" House reasoned unenthusiastically; the argument with Wilson had taken everything he had to give – now he wanted more sleep.

True to House's words, Chase was actually out in the hallway, looking thoroughly confused after having been told by a couple of nurse's that his boss had been brought in during the night shift.

"You want me to get him?"

"Nah..." House mumbled into his pillow, "lets see what rumours he hears about me and Cuddy first..."

"You do realise I haven't forgotten what you told me on that riverbank" Wilson stated smugly – the mere mention of Cuddy reminding him of their whole laboured conversation, "and if you don't tell her – _I _will."

"I don't know what you're talking about" House grumbled, flinching just enough at Wilson's statement to prove that he remembered every word.

"I can reinact the scene if you like? I think it started-"

"I'll tell her" House interrupted, grimacing at the thought of how awkward it would be.

"Really?" the statement caught Wilson completely off guard. "When?"

House glanced up at his friend exasperatedly. "I'll tell her when I'm ready."

"Ready for what?" Cuddy's voice came dancing over from the doorway.

'Oh shit' House thought, catching Wilson's self-satisfied look as he cottoned onto the slight increase on the heart monitor. 'You are not my friend.'

"Can you look after him for a few minutes – I need to go...somewhere" Wilson's lies were less than convincing; but that didn't stop Cuddy from stepping aside and letting him leave though, much to House's horror.

'Oh crap...'

**TBC...**

**Author's Note: Twenty minute chapter for you...hope it doesn't show! Fills in some gaps and moves the fic along – what more can you ask for? R&R pretty please! x**


	23. Chapter 23

"You can't come in here." House stated weakly as Cuddy hovered in the doorway. He knew she wouldn't listen to him; why should she? He was high as a kite and completely defenceless. They could drop him in the _clinic_ and he'd be unable to escape; plus, he'd still be able to correctly diagnose _every_ patient before they even sat down! 'Probably best not to mention that to Cuddy; wouldn't put it past her to have me put in there…'

She gave him a questioning look before strolling in and seating herself on the small, hard visitor's chair. "Why can't I come in?" she asked innocently, noting his sickly complexion; to be honest, she wasn't feeling too good herself.

"Because you've got Salmonellosis" he replied matter-of-factly, being sure not to make eye contact with her; "It could be contagious…"

Cuddy scowled at him before folding her arms over her chest; trust House to know exactly what she was suffering with. "You're on antibiotics – so I wouldn't worry about catching it" she then frowned, feeling a little hurt, "So…why don't you want to speak to me?"

"I'm tired" House groaned pathetically into his pillow; it wasn't actually a lie – he really was absolutely knackered. "I've had Wilson lecturing me for the past half an hour" he stopped abruptly, realising that this statement would invite all kinds of uncomfortable questions from Cuddy.

"Lecturing you?" she was curious.

"Something about infections or pneumonia" he lied; "he's taking this 'attending' business a bit too seriously…"

"I think it's sweet" she said, grinning at House's disgusted look; "He cares about you – and he's not the only one, so get used to it."

'What the hell does _that_ mean?' House thought frantically; he must have looked perplexed because Cuddy cleared her throat nervously and shifted about in the seat before hastily adding to her declaration.

"I, uh…I didn't get a chance to thank you…for what you did for me back in the ambulance." Cuddy mentally cursed as she stumbled through the tongue-tied acknowledgement. "So…Thanks…"

House was surprised to find that he didn't even consider a sly jibe or sarcastic remark before replying to her amusingly gauche gratitude with unfaltering sincerity - "You're welcome."

The awkward five minute silence that followed was eventually broken by a steady increase in House's heart monitor output; Cuddy looked up, alarmed, as she saw his face set in a grimace.

"What's wrong?" she asked anxiously.

"Nothing" he gasped painfully in reply, "just the Anaesthetic wearing off, finally…" he didn't sound as relieved as he wanted to, mostly due to the agonising throbbing feeling emanating from his right hand side.

"Do you need-"

"Just talk to me" he gasped, cutting her off and grabbing the PCA unit at the same time. 'Work dammit!' he thought desperately, repeatedly pushing the button that was intended to relieve him of pain.

"Oh…okay," Cuddy kicked off with the first topic that came into her head; her throbbing wrist. "I saw what you wrote on my cast."

"And?" he asked breathlessly, grasping the PCA so hard that she thought it might smash into a million pieces. Pressing the relief button didn't seem as effective as he would have liked.

"I accept your apology; but you have to accept mine too" she said quickly, scrutinizing the various monitors above him with her eyes as he closed his own, tightly, trying to escape reality.

"I'm sorry for running into you in your bedroom – and making you run around covering my tracks around your apartment; it's probably my fault your kidney managed to get so bad. Maybe if I'd been acting like a doctor, instead of…of…" the next word eluded her completely as she caught House staring at her absorbedly, seemingly intent on hearing her next words.

If he had the energy and physical ability, he'd have pulled her into a deep embrace at that moment; she was feeling just as scared and vulnerable as _he_ was – in a way it made him feel less alone. 'Jesus, what's gotten into you…maybe it's not just the drugs making you feel like a idiot' he contemplated miserably, still waiting for the painkillers to live up to their promising name.

"Cuddy, I…" he tore his eyes away from hers and focussed on the busy hallway through the blinded window, unsure of what to say to her. Whatever came out of his mouth now could spell disaster…but he could always put it down to the medication he was currently drowning in.

Cuddy gawped for a second; still trying to figure out if she'd really seen that look of raw remorse in House's eyes; she cleared her throat uneasily, "Your sats are looking better – is the pain still bad?" she asked, diverting the attention away from anything too personal. 'That's right, keep hiding behind medicine…it's not like he was about to pour his heart out to you!'

The intense pain in his side was dulling down gradually to an aching throb; it wasn't pleasant, but was better than before, by far. He was concerned about his mental wellbeing more than anything else; the sooner he told Cuddy how he felt about her, the sooner he started writing poetry and buying flowers…it was enough to put his gruff reputation in hiding forever! 'I need more time…I can't just blurt it out…she'd have a heart attack!'

House shook his head in reply to her question; the nerve he needed to tell her how he felt, quickly disintegrating into nothing. "So…when do I get to christen your new cast?" he asked, adding just enough humour to the question to make Cuddy take the bait playfully.

"If you think for one second, that I'm letting you back near this thing," she smiled good-naturedly, "then you're more moronic than I thought"

"S'not fair – picking on patients…" House mumbled lazily, finding solace in their familiar banter. 'Do you really want to change this?' he wondered briefly, opening his eyes to take another look at his boss. "You okay?" he asked worriedly as he took in the sight of her clutching her stomach.

"Salmonellosis…remember?" she said, giving him an exasperated eye-roll for effect. "Assuming you were actually being serious when you diagnosed me…" she muttered whilst subconsciously rubbing her abdomen.

"Does it hurt?" he enquired carefully, something pulling uncomfortably in his gut at the thought of _his_ Cuddy in pain.

"Yes" she said, throwing him a frown, "thought you said _I_ was the one with the sadistic nature…"

He ignored her last comment, though still remembering her little black book and his sabotaging comments; "Abdominal cramping, nausea, pooping problems?" Cuddy nodded reluctantly with embarrassment, indulging House in his mini-diagnosis of her stomach problem. "Vomiting?"

"Not so much" she admitted.

"It'll probably get worse" he said almost gleefully; "I think you should get yourself on some fluids – just in case."

"I don't need fluids, I'm fine" Cuddy protested.

"Ah, but you won't be in a few hours – that's when it'll really kick off" House paused, pretending to think; "It'd probably be better if you stay in, at least for tonight…"

Something clicked in Cuddy's head that maybe this was House's way of saying he didn't want to be alone tonight. 'Why doesn't he just ask Wilson to stay with him then?' she thought, immediately remembering what House said to her when she arrived. 'Wilson's obviously getting on his nerves – keeps _lecturing_ him…but he was trying to throw you out ten minutes ago…I hope the mood swings aren't indicative of something more serious going on…'

She must have taken too long to reply because House was attempting to fidget in the bed, nervously waiting for her to bust him for practically begging her to stay. 'You're pathetic' he thought miserably as he flexed his right arm, 'you can't even ask her to-'

He gasped involuntarily as he caught the dressing on his delicate side with his elbow; "Shit" he choked as he struggled to breathe through the blinding pain that emanated from his wound. He desperately pressed the button on the PCA, knowing full well that he wouldn't get anything out of it for at least another fifteen minutes.

Cuddy shot up in an instant, planting her good hand firmly on his shoulder; she didn't coo or attempt to soothe him in any way apart from letting him know that she was there.

She felt every agonising tremor racking through his body as he trembled uncontrollably; silently praying that he could hear her, she gave him a few snappy orders. "Just breathe through it, House; you're maxed out on painkillers. C'mon – a couple of deep breaths to get this under control."

When his vitals adamantly refused to return to normal, Cuddy slipped into her superhero mode once again by scrambling over to the other side of the bed; she grabbed a nearby syringe and plunged 10ml's of Diazepam into his IV port, watching closely as the tension dropped from his shaking shoulders and his breathing eventually evened out.

She strode purposefully back round to where he was facing and leant in close to his face; House was gaping in a dazed fashion, but otherwise seemed to be more comfortable. He frowned slightly, wondering what the hell she did to him; he felt like he'd just been hit by a truck, and then run over a few times for luck!

"I gave you a sedative" she said in a guilty explanation, impressing him with her prowess, "it was the only thing I could do."

"See…this…is why…I love you…" he mumbled softly before the high dose of painkillers kicked in with the sedative and forced him into a deep, _deep_ slumber.

Cuddy stepped back slowly, a look of confusion taking over her features; for a minute there, she could have sworn he just said he loved her…'He did…Oh…!'

**TBC… **

**Author's Note: Wow, I wonder what Cuddy's going to do with that piece of perplexing information…who wants to find out? Hope you liked the chapter – next one gets even more interesting…OMG 300 reviews – you guys are too good to me! Thank you so much…who should I send the gift baskets to? lol**

Author's Second Note (unrelated to the fic):On a completely different subject – I received my 'QI' dvd yesterday (best quiz show ever!); and yes I have watched Hugh's appearance about five times already…so much hotness – I urge you all to buy it! So that's why I didn't update yesterday…and most likely why I won't update again 'till Monday! Plus, isn't it the Bafta's this weekend? 'House' is up for best International offering…** x**


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note: I could happily leave it at the end of this chapter…how about you? I'll write one more chapter, for luck, if you guys want? A sort of happily-ever-after chapter…but in my own non-fluffy writing style! Enjoy… x **

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"Don't move, House!" Wilson snapped as he watched the drowsy diagnostician stir from his long nap. He hadn't sat and watched over his friend for four hours just to have him inadvertently strike his injured side and fall unconscious again!

House moaned lethargically, prying his eyes open to find Wilson literally face to face with him; "Jesus" he croaked, "trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Don't be so dramatic" Wilson replied, picking up the chart to make a note of the time that his patient had awoken. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired" House mumbled whilst closing his eyes once again; this, however, didn't deter Wilson from trying to engage in conversation.

"You've been out for over three hours" Wilson said, merely stating the facts; House reopened his eyes and sighed.

"Is that supposed to make me less tired?" he wondered out loud, slurring slightly; "because it really doesn't…"

"I just thought you'd like to know" Wilson said cheerfully; "I'll be sure to write 'tired and irritable' on your chart though"

House couldn't be bothered to argue, so he left himself open to be talked at.

"It says here" Wilson started, holding out House's chart, "that you were sedated…by Cuddy" he waited for a reaction, but found none. "Now, was that before or after you told her you're in love with her?" he asked cheekily, snapping the chart back onto the end of the bed.

"I didn't tell her" House said dolefully, wishing Wilson would clear off and leave him to sleep.

Wilson regarded his friend for a moment; wondering if House was really being honest, for a change. "Well, you must have said _something_?" he said, pressing for an answer. House was the master of manipulation, but he didn't seem to be genuinely hiding anything right now; nor did he seem to be offering anything new to the equation…

"I passed out from the pain _waaaay_ before I could pour my heart out and confess my eternal dying love for her…" House announced sleepily, only half-joking.

"She sat with you for three hours solid…" Wilson declared, causing House to perk up slightly.

"What?" the diagnostician asked blearily, wary of being caught off guard. 'Blame the drugs…always the drugs.'

"She stayed here _keeping watch _over you, she wouldn't let anyone in; she practically snapped Cameron's head off when she came to see if you needed anything…and you're saying you didn't tell her _anything _before she drugged you earlier?"

"She didn't drug me," House began, resenting the fact that Wilson was painting Cuddy to be an irrational, jealous and egotistical nightmare; "she put me out when the pain became too-" he stopped abruptly, remembering what she said as she faced him.

_I gave you a sedative…it was the only thing I could do _'Oh God…' he remembered what he'd thought in reply… 'You didn't think it, you idiot…you told her you loved her!' he groaned audibly.

"House?" Wilson said anxiously, taking note of his ashen complexion. "You okay?"

"I, uh…" House's confused stare met Wilson's unwavering gaze; "where did she go?"

"When?" Wilson asked, puzzled.

"Whenever she left" House said, irritation coming through loud and clear in his tired voice.

"She went to her office to sort something out…"

"Where's my file?" Wilson stared back blankly at House, causing the weary man to sigh exasperatedly; "My file; the one with several accounts of my death in it, that Cuddy would find particularly shocking if she ever read…" he trailed off when he found that the breath he craved to finish the description off with, was a little difficult to summon up.

His head had begun to swim disconcertingly with the effort; the more he woke up, the more nauseous, weak and dizzy he felt. 'I'm gonna kill Cuddy…giving me a sedative when I've still got the anaesthetic in me…'

"Relax, Chase has it" Wilson said reassuringly.

"Get it, and him, in here - right now" House ordered weakly, carefully adjusting the nasal cannular with his right hand to see if he could get any more oxygen from it.

"I'll page him" Wilson said, reaching for his pager.

"Where's Cuddy?" House asked again, getting more irritated as the ability to breathe became more laborious.

"I told you, she's in her office" Wilson paused in his page, taking the time to look up at his, now slightly distressed, friend. "Talk to me – what's wrong?"

"Wilson, just…" House mumbled languidly, "get me…O2 mask…before I pass out."

"Sure – here" Wilson handed the O2 mask over and refrained from asking the inevitable 'are you okay?' question; he sent the page and carefully observed the patient. House fumbled with the mask, dropping it almost immediately; he cursed under his breath and sluggishly moved his hand to retrieve it.

Wilson frowned, alarm bells were beginning to ring out in his head; "What's going on, House?" he asked urgently, pressing the mask over House's mouth himself.

"I'm just…really dizzy." House mumbled, wishing he could see his O2 sats monitor from his position on the bed; because, judging from the look that Wilson was throwing in that direction, it probably wasn't good.

"Are you feeling light-headed?" Wilson asked directly; he pressed the nurse call button above House's bed, just in case he needed assistance.

"No…" House moaned lethargically, annoyed with Wilson's overreaction; "I'm fine now-"

"I'm looking at evidence that says otherwise!" Wilson countered, pointing to the monitors just as two nurses and Chase strode purposefully into the room.

"What's going on?" Chase asked breathlessly, looking from Wilson to House, and back again. He didn't need the aggravation of looking worried in front of House, but he really didn't want to be his boss's attending.

"He's having trouble breathing-" Wilson started before being cut off by House.

"No – I was dizzy" he stated, forcefully pronouncing each word so as not to slur, "and now I'm not…so you can go."

Chase motioned for the two nurses to leave; they didn't need to be in the room just for the sake of getting House worked up. The young doctor set about checking House's vitals in an attempt at not actually having to intervene in the argument that he and Wilson seemed to be involved in.

"What's the matter with you?" Wilson hissed accusingly, "If there's something wrong – just tell me!"

"Just an O.D from the sedative Cuddy gave me…" House addressed miserably to one of the two Wilson's currently wavering in front of his eyes. "It'll pass."

"Oh good, 'cos for a minute there – I though it could be something serious!" Wilson snapped back, sarcastically; he could see that House was having trouble focussing properly, mostly due to the fact that he seemed to be looking two inches to the left of him as they bickered.

"It's not serious, unless I die…then it could be" House mumbled, desperately attempting to push back the nauseous feeling that threatened to overwhelm his senses completely. "Don't tell anyone…"

"What?" Wilson asked, having trouble keeping up with his friend's seemingly random ramblings.

"Don't tell Cuddy" House ordered more precisely, stubbornly refusing to plead...but becoming very close to doing so.

"Ah, I see – so this is all part of your 'keeping the truth from Cuddy' plan?" Wilson asked rhetorically, sitting down with a jolt in the hard visitor's chair.

"Err; is there something I should know about?" Chase asked, unable to block out their entire exchange.

Wilson sighed and ignored the look that House was attempting to scare him into submission with; "Cuddy…doesn't know about some of the more _delicate_ complications of House's surgery…" he started carefully, being sure not to make eye contact with the patient, for fear that looks really could kill!

"I'm not lying to my boss." Chase stated, knowing what the next statement would be.

"I'm your boss" House croaked lazily, feeling his eyelids tugging down uncontrollably. As interesting as this conversation was, he couldn't fight of the lethargy brought on by the many drugs fighting over control of his senses.

"Yeah" came the drawn-out, uncertain response from Chase, who was shaking his head in disbelief. He always knew his boss was crazy; he didn't realise he was also a moron, until now. "I'm sure you both have…some sort of reason for lying to her?" he asked expectantly.

"House is…" Wilson started, fully expecting House to cut him off with an angry jibe or threat; when none came; he looked more closely at his friend's closed eyes. "…asleep" he concluded, unable to pass off House's little secret without his knowledge.

"I'll monitor him, you can write in his chart…" Chase announced, scooting Wilson out of the chair. "I don't want to have to fib in the paperwork, but you don't seem to have a problem with it" he added in explanation.

Wilson stared at House's longest-serving team member for a moment, open mouthed and frowning; he hadn't quite realised before, how much House's unique personality seemed to rub off on those who worked with him. Without argument, he scribbled vaguely in the chart, picked up his pager and left the patient in the capable hands of Dr. Chase.

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House awoke with a grunt as he felt something pressing against his surgical wound; he instinctively moved his right arm, raising it slightly to alleviate the pressure.

When this technique failed, he was forced to blearily open his eyes to investigate; he swallowed painfully when he saw who was tending to him.

"Hey" Cuddy said softly as she gently peeled back his bandages to reveal the tender, sutured area. "Did I hurt you?"

"No…it kinda tickles…" House replied groggily, bringing a hand up to wipe the sleep from his eyes and wincing at the unwanted repercussions of this action.

Cuddy looked at him sceptically, "It feels like you're being tickled?" she asked, doubtingly.

"Sure…by Freddy Krueger" he replied, smirking at her poor attempt at keeping a straight face.

"House, you're…" her smile faltered slightly as her playful mood became overshadowed by what he'd told her earlier, in his moment of obvious disorientation. "What did you mean…about what you said earlier?"

House seriously thought about blanking her and feigning ignorance…but some unfamiliar part of his mind told him that it would be cruel. "I meant exactly what I said…" he replied quietly, unable to see her reaction to this statement as she leant closer into her work on his dressing.

"What does that mean…for the future?" she asked, feeling him tense up under her gentle labour. 'Don't blow it now – he's actually being honest with you!' she thought as she pressed the new dressing around his satisfactorily healing sutures.

"I like you…I like spending time with you…" House, for once, seemed to be at a loss for words.

"House, we've spent the whole weekend together; I somehow managed to upgrade you from 'cripple with broken ribs' to 'cripple with ruptured kidney'…you saved my life, and died twice as a result of it – how can you possibly say you like spending time with me?"

"It's exciting…?" he replied lightly before frowning; "You knew?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Knew what?"

"About the surgery…the dying part"

"Yes" she replied, completing her task of dressing management and finding nothing else to do but face her patient. "I know about the covered up surgery _and_ the O.D that _I _unwittingly gave you."

"You don't sound very guilt ridden" House acknowledged calmly. "Who told you?"

"Your surgeon told me about the coding and the fact that you were hanging on by a thread; the nurses gave away the fact that you were having some problems after I sedated you. It didn't take much to put two and two together for the O.D diagnosis." Cuddy smirked; apparently, she wasn't angry. Well, why should she be? It was her fault that House O.D'd in the first place; she had to admit, it was a little sweet for him to shield her from that fact.

"Does Wilson know that you know?"

She smiled and shook her head; "It's far too much fun to have him squirming every time we talk about your condition" she admitted.

"Wow…you're way more evil than I thought" House groggily admitted, receiving a feather light punch to the arm in retaliation. "Careful, I'm fragile!" he gasped teasingly.

"So I can see…" Cuddy pulled his right arm out and peeled off the dressing over the crook of his elbow. He hissed as the tape tore out some of the fine hairs on his arm.

"You remind me of a merciless nurse I once knew; she could make a grown man cry, just by – Fuck!" he cursed as Cuddy inadvertently dropped his arm; he immediately regretted letting his arm rest completely in her hands.

"Sorry!" she apologised, "It's this damned cast…" she looked up and saw him frowning anxiously at her. 'No! I'm the one who's supposed to be worried about you!'

House reached out with his left arm and took Cuddy's good hand, stroking the back of it ever so lightly with his thumb; Cuddy stared at him with both a mixture of fear and surprise on her face.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, too shocked to take her hand back.

"Something I've wanted to do for a while" he admitted quietly, kissing her hand and watching her for a reaction…

She smiled.


End file.
